#sonny this ask made my entire night

[carisisrolledupsleeves]

8. I can’t sleep without you here and 10. do you need a place to stay tonight? with sonny x reader maybe he and Amanda aren’t working out

thank you sm for the request! hope you enjoy :)

You’re about to fall asleep when your phone vibrates on silent. For a moment you contemplate whether to pick up or not but seeing Sonny’s name on the display, you decide to take it. He usually texts, unless it’s really important.

‘Sonny?’ you answer.

‘Hey…sorry, I know it’s late. I just-...umm…’ he sounds like he regrets the phone call already.

‘What’s up?’ you sit up in your bed.

‘Can I come over?’ he asks anxiously.

‘Now? Sonny, just tell me what’s going on.’ 

‘I sorta just packed up my shit and left.’ he finally admits after a few seconds of silence.

It doesn’t surprise you to hear that. For weeks now Sonny had seemed unhappy, on edge, had confessed that he had doubts about starting this relationship in the first place. Being a supportive friend, you had listened and offered advice, even though deep down you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Of course you wanted him to be happy but you also weren’t able to ignore the pull you felt toward him any longer. You tried not to let it show, had locked all these thoughts away inside a box which you had buried deep down, too afraid to ruin your friendship, too scared of unrequited feelings. 

‘Do you need a place to stay tonight?’ as soon as the words leave your mouth you wish you could take them back. Why the fuck would you invite him over? 

‘Yeah, hmm. I know it’s weird but I’m already here. Started walking and well, for some reason I ended up outside your door.’ Sonny says, sounding very much embarrassed and nervous. 

And you swear your heart skips a beat. You jump up, and more or less run down the corridor to buzz him in.

An hour and a few drinks later you hand him fresh sheets and pillows for the couch, his makeshift bed for the night. Sonny seems oddly cheery, almost as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. You had talked for a while and shared half a bottle of whiskey, just enough for you both to loosen up and say some things you probably wouldn’t have said in a sober state. 

‘I knew it was a bad idea. I was just tired of being alone, y’know?’ Sonny had admitted.

‘Well, better to be alone than miserable, right? I’m sure you’ll find the right person eventually.’ you had replied and he had looked at you in a way that almost made you feel as if he knew. 

Now you’re in your bed, unable to fall asleep. The fact that he’s just outside your bedroom door, wrapped up in your sheets, the fact that he had come to you for comfort, it all keeps you awake. All these thoughts are back, swimming through your head, and this feeling deep within you, as if someone had punched you in the gut. As soon as you close your eyes, these scenarios take over. You don’t even remember when it had started but for months now you had imagined him and you, together. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol that makes you brave. Maybe it’s the things he said. Maybe it doesn’t matter. And when you open your bedroom door, you find him looking at you as if he anticipated you coming back.

‘I can’t sleep without you here.’ you confess with a lump in your throat. Here it is, the box unearthed, and opened. 

Sonny gets up from the couch and walks over to you until he’s so close you can feel the heat of his body. You look up at him, and the way he looks at you makes you more confident. Inhaling his scent, you lean closer. 

‘Will you come to bed with me?’ you ask and he nods without hesitation, softly taking your hand. 

And the kiss he places on your cheek is even softer. Sonny’s lips linger there for a moment before they travel up to your temple, your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, the corner of your mouth, and then, finally, your lips. The tenderness of it all makes your entire body shake, and you reach out to touch his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat beneath your hands. You grab at his shirt, willing him to take it off and he does, breaking the kiss just for a split second before you pull him against you again. Everything feels like a fever dream as his tongue slips into your mouth, his desperate need for you utterly palpable. Suddenly it’s all obvious. All those moments you had shared in the past, people thinking you were involved, even his now ex-girlfriend always looking at you with a hint of jealousy. 

‘I’ve wanted you for such a long time.’ Sonny breathes as you guide him toward the bed, pushing him down on it. 

You give him a knowing smile, covering his body with yours and he runs his hands up the side of your thighs, under your oversized shirt, making you shudder as he pulls your hips down onto his. Your wetness begins to soak through your panties as you feel Sonny’s arousal against you, and he moans, realizing just how mutual the feeling is. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you want to know and Sonny blushes.

‘I always thought you were too good for me.’ he replies and you can’t believe what he’s saying.

‘Too good for you? Sonny, you are perfect. So perfect.’ you run your hands over his body, kissing him again deeply as he sighs at your words. 

It’s a slow burn. Even though the urgency is apparent, you relish each other’s touches, kisses; exploring and discovering every inch of newly exposed skin. His neck is his favorite place to be kissed, you find out, and your mouth would have lingered there for an eternity if he hadn’t flipped you over, his hands beginning a journey over your body that soon has you panting his name. You can’t help but arch your back as he slips into your panties, fingers finding your clit and he presses down into your damp folds. 

‘I love how wet you are for me.’ Sonny mumbles, leaning his forehead against yours, eyes staring into yours as he begins to circle your most sensitive spot.

‘I thought about this so many times.’ you moan, meeting his lips again for a heated kiss. Fuck, his touch feels amazing. 

Even better than in your wildest fantasies, and in your head you’ve had him in every way possible. You thought about things you had never thought about before. And while your pleasure starts to build, you can’t believe this is really happening. Finally. 

‘How was it? In your thoughts? Tell me every little detail.’ he whispers as he gets rid of his underwear before pulling off yours. 

So you tell him. And he follows your lead step-by-step. It’s incredibly thrilling to watch and feel him fulfill your fantasies, making it an even better reality. You’re close to your first orgasm when he kneels between your thighs, pulling you up, open and ready for him. When Sonny is finally pushing inside you, the sensation is almost too much, a whimper leaving your mouth as he holds your waist with one hand, the other one still busy with your clit. Your eyes roll back, your thoughts in disarray as you feel him hard and throbbing so deep within you. 

‘Fuck.’ he groans, looking down at you as your legs wrap around him. ‘You are so damn gorgeous.’ 

You do feel gorgeous with him. No shyness, no self-consciousness. Even though you’ve never been this exposed, in every sense of the word, you don’t feel vulnerable, on the contrary. Sonny pulls back, just to plunge into you again, slowly but deliberately, with just the right amount of force. 

‘Yes, just like that.’ you cry out, one hand reaching for his arm for hold, the other one gripping the sheets in absolute bliss. 

He feels wonderful, his cock plunging into you, stretching you, hitting your gspot at the most perfect angle. Sonny increases his pressure on your swollen clit, his thumb circling faster, expertly bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just watching him burying himself into your pussy is enough to send you over but you hold back, digging your heels into his back to get him even deeper. He moans your name, and you can feel his thighs tense under you with each thrust.

‘You’re so hot, baby. Shit! It feels so good to finally be inside you.’ Sonny leans down to kiss you before sitting back again, pulling your hips toward him to pick up the pace a bit more.  

You love it, being handled by him, being fucked by him. And you’ve always wanted to see him come undone like this, to lose control. 

‘Fuck me harder.’ you beg, voice shaky, and Sonny obliges, withdrawing his fingers from your clit to grab your waist with both hands and tilting your pelvis for even better access before bucking his hips against you harder and faster.

Holy shit! You don’t know if you’re able to hold back for much longer, having him pound into you like this, the ache between your thighs almost unbearable. You want this to last but you want to come, want him to come. And you know he’s right there with you as you hear his breath hitch, and he pauses for a moment, his cock swallowed by your tight, wet warmth. 

‘Sonny!’ you sound more frantic than you had anticipated, being so close to bursting, your walls already fluttering around him.

‘I love you.’ he gasps, eyes lost in yours. 

‘I love you, too.’ you reply, reaching out to touch him. 

He smiles, still not moving, and you are getting desperate now, grinding your hips against him. Sonny gets the hint, his fingers back on your pulsing clit, starting to pump into your glistening cunt again. His movements are erratic now, and he’s close to his own orgasm, as you whimper, your velvety walls squeezing him. You come hard, almost choking on your own breath, and as your body convulses you feel him jerk, flooding your hole with his release. 

‘F-fuckkk, Sonny! Yes, yes, yes!’ you cry out as you see stars, shaking around him. 

‘Jesus, fuck!’ he curses, pumping his cum into your twitching cunt, making you shudder again and again. 

Sonny lets go of your hips, collapsing on top of you, capturing your lips in an exhausted kiss, his body still trembling. You wrap your arms around him, relishing the intimacy of more skin contact. You can’t believe he is really yours. 

‘I hope that was even better than in your thoughts.’ he whispers after a while, still a little out of breath.

You smile as you continue to run your fingers through his hair, your heart pounding in your chest which you’re certain he can feel. If someone had told you the night would end with Sonny and you, not only naked in bed together but confessing your love to each other, you wouldn’t have believed it. It doesn’t feel real but at the same time it’s the realest thing you have ever experienced in your life. 

‘So much better. And there’s so much more I’ve been thinking about.’ you smirk as Sonny lifts his head to meet your gaze, biting his lip.

‘I can’t wait for you to tell me.’ 

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[topguncortez]

Slap Shot || Prologue

a Jake Seresin AU

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: the first night out in a long time, and it just so happens to be one of the biggest weekends in the Hockey season. A certain blonde hair cowboy makes his charm on you.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of grief, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of "locker room talk", puck bunnies, mentions of cheating, PDA, making out, allusions of sex.

This wasn’t like you. 

You weren’t the type who went out wearing one of the shortest and tightest black dresses you own, killer heels on your feet, your hair curled in big blown out-waves, makeup done and a bright bold red on your lips. You weren’t the type to sit at the bar, twirling the straw around in your drink and flirting with guys whose names you didn’t bother to ask for or learn. And you definitely weren’t the type to actively look for and plan to go home with one of those guys. 

But tonight was different. 

Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the world had been finally lifted off your shoulders. Grief was such a weird thing. You knew that long ago, but it had been a while since you were met with the process. The first time you went through the grieving process, it had come on so suddenly, you weren’t sure how to handle it. This time, you had years to prepare for it. Once you hit that final phase of acceptance, you felt like you could breathe again. And you had a new outlook on your life and you were ready to take charge of it. 

Or maybe it was because the bar was crawling with hockey players. 

It was All-Star weekend, and the best of the best NHL players were in town to show off their skills. The bar you were currently sitting in was crawling with them. Some were trying to enjoy probably their first night off in weeks, others looking for a puck bunny (or two) to take back with them, and some fell in the middle. 

You sighed as you looked down at your drink, swirling around the melting ice with your straw. The confidence you had felt earlier when you first put on this dress was starting to fade, and the insecurities started creeping in. You weren’t entirely sure what you thought was going to happen when you strolled into this bar. You could count on one hand all the one-stands you have had in your entire life (the answer was one and that one ended up becoming a long term boyfriend). Also, you had a thing about not hooking up with hockey players. You had been surrounded by them your whole life. There was something about hearing the locker room talk the day after a win that made you want to stay as far away from hooking up with one as humanly possible. Even if a hockey player was the last man on the planet, you would weigh the pros and cons of reproduction or killing off the human race. 

“Hey,” You waved down the bartender, “Can I get my-” 

“Jack and Coke, sweetheart,” A husky voice said, as a large, warm body saddled up next to you, “And whatever the lady is having,” He nodded his head towards you. 

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at the man next to you. You were met with the sight of perfect tan skin as if it had been kissed by the sun god himself, sandy blonde hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His green eyes peered down at you, a smirk on his lips. 

“You looked like you were going to leave,” He said, his voice with a slight southern twang to it, “And I couldn’t let you leave without introducing myself.” 

You raised a brow in suspicion.

“Jake,” He held his hand out to you. You looked at it skeptically, and then back up at him, his smile never wavering, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I promise I don’t got any diseases. It’s just a hand shake, not a marriage proposal.” 

“Sonny,” You said before you even had a chance to stop yourself. It was the nickname your father had given you, and the name he almost always introduced you as. 

“Sonny, huh? Short for Sunshine?” 

I wish, you thought, “Yeah, I guess.” 

The bartender set down two drinks in front of you, the jack and coke for Jake, and another vodka soda for you. Jake lifted his drink, cheersing against yours before taking a sip. He leaned his back against his bar, canvasing the tightly packed area. Your eyes wandered over his body. He was clad in a burnt orange suit, with a lighter orange shirt underneath, a vast difference from the black and navy blue fitted suits filling the bar. It fit him in all the right places, the top buttons undone showing his collarbone and a gold chain around his neck. You watched as his throat bobbed as he took a sip of his drink, and thoughts of you running your tongue down the vein in his neck filled your mind, a warmth spreading in your lower belly. 

“I can feel you staring,” Jake said, turning his head to meet your gaze. 

Normally, you’d turn away and blush like a schoolgirl. You weren’t inexperienced with guys by any means, but you didn’t have the confidence. The fear of rejection was buried deep into you, that most of them you stayed away from guys like this. But blame it on the alcohol, you gave him a smirk, lifting the straw to your red painted lips. 

“A girl can’t admire what she likes?” You shrug, batting your eyelashes. 

A flash of darkness moved through his eyes, before the playful grin arose on his cheeks, “Yeah?” He leaned in closer to you. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, goosebumps arising on your skin from the warmth filtering off his body. Who knew that you could get turned on by a man smelling good? “What else does the girl like?” 

You bit your lip, leaning into him, so your chest was almost touching his. You didn’t miss the quick shift of his eyes downward at your chest and then back to your eyes. 

“Tequila.”  

The smirk never left his lips as he turned back towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila with limes. You took another sip of your drink, setting it down on the bar as the bartender delivered the shots. Jake gently took your hand in his, his green eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe on your skin, before sprinkling a line of salt. The move shouldn’t have turned you on that much, but alas here you were, wondering what it would be like to feel his tongue on other places of your body. 

As if he could tell what you were thinking, Jake shot you a wink before handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his glass up slightly, as he gave a small toast. 

“To bad decisions. Can’t come in her, come on her.” Jake’s eyes never left your as you both licked the lines of salt on the back of your hands. You watched as he clenched his jaw from the burn of the clear liquid down his throat. You set the shot glass down on the bar, now feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through your veins. 

“More?” You asked, a look in your eye that told Jake you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. 

“Fuck it.” 

The two of you put down a couple of more shots, before Jake was dragging you back to a booth he and his friends had claimed on the other side of the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about Jake, but you felt like you knew him. Maybe it was his easy going smile or how easily a conversation flowed between the two of you. Jake had sat you down next to him in one of the booths, but at some point in time, you had slid into his lap, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, like it belonged there. Your drinks had long been discarded and the ice melted. 

“So, what are you in town for?” Jake asked, his lips right next to your ear as he tried to speak over the loud sound of the bass. 

“Work stuff,” You shrugged. You would rather not get into the details of what was going to be your most stressful weekend of the whole entire season, “What about you? You live here or…?” 

“Nah,” Jake chuckled, “Born and raised, but don’t live here. Also visiting for work.” 

Right on cue, one of Jake’s friends set down another tray of shots, everyone around the booth grabbing one. Jake kept his arm around you as he reached to grab one. He raised it up, toasting with the rest of his friends, before turning to look at you. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him take the shot, holding the alcohol in his mouth. You didn’t need to be told as his hand gripped your face, and brought your jaw towards him, opening your own mouth. You knew it was obscene as Jake spit the alcohol, which was again tequila into your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had barely swallowed the liquid, when you crashed your lips to his. 

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the swelling of his cock against your ass. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the lime and tequila he had taken earlier. His warmth enveloped you, as you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction to relieve the aching heat between your legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently on the blonde locks, making a groan fall from his lips. Jake’s lips trailed from yours, leaving a path of sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, sucking with just enough pressure to make a moan tumble from your lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart,” Jake whispered against your skin, the feeling making you shiver in his arms, “Want to get out of here?” 

You turned to face him. His green eyes were blown wide with lust, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it, his lips slightly swollen and pouty as he looked at you. 

Throwing all caution to the wind, you placed another heated kiss on his lips before pulling away. 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

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[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Acceptance

A/N: That’s it! We’ve done it!! If you had told me a year ago that I was going to write a whole-ass story, I wouldn’t have believed you. But here we are – life’s funny, isn’t it? Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who’s been following along with my story. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was capable of writing something anyone would enjoy reading. All the likes, reblogs, and comments have really added a sparkle to my life I didn’t know I needed. Also, extra huge thank you to the lovelies who reviewed, edited, and let me ramble on about my idea. This could not have been done without you and I am forever grateful <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Word count: 2,985

Previous parts: Prologue | Denial | Anger | Bargaining | Depression

Also posted on AO3.

You didn’t need to tell Sonny where to meet you in Prospect Park. He knew the exact spot. On your fourth date, you took a walk through the park. Out of nowhere, it started pouring down rain, so you took cover under a gazebo. That was where you shared your first kiss, and that memory would forever be engrained in his head.

Even though you were fifteen minutes early, Sonny was already waiting for you in that gazebo. You shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. He sat hunched over on the bench with his arms on his knees. He looked up when he heard you but didn’t say anything. He didn’t look like your Sonny. The sparkle was drained from his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. You knew the feeling. You sat beside him on the bench, leaving an uncomfortable amount of distance between you. The tension from when you last met still lingered in the air, but the mood felt less defensive and more cautious.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said to break the ice. Your heart was in your throat. Your anxiety wasn’t as high as last time, but you were nonetheless still nervous. Your hands were clammy, and your leg was restlessly bouncing, making the bench squeak beneath you. But you needed to be here, to make things right.

Sonny nodded in response. He was no longer despondent or resentful but still felt very guarded. He was prepared to accept the outcome of your conversation, whether that meant moving forward or moving on.

“Well, I have a lot of apologizing to do.” You rummaged through your bag to find your phone. “So I made a list to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

Sonny didn’t come here today expecting an apology. He was the one who messed up, in his mind. But writing an apology as an itemized list was such a “you” thing to do. He was always fond of how meticulous you were.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you began. “Let’s start with number one: I’m sorry for leaving that night. Packing up without a word was wrong, and I should’ve stayed and talked with you. Number two: I’m sorry for avoiding you. You reached out to apologize and reconcile, and I was unwilling to communicate. It was childish and unproductive of me to ignore you.”

You paused briefly to glance up at Sonny’s face. His expression was neutral, but you could tell by how his eyes were fixed onto you that he was listening intently. Sonny was so surprised by your words that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. He’d spent more time worrying about your feelings than examining his own. This apology was like a salve to a deep cut he hadn’t noticed. Closure he didn’t know he needed.

You looked back at your phone and continued down your list. “Um, number three: I’m sorry for the unforgivable things I said to you when we fought. I didn’t mean them, but I know that’s no excuse, nor does it take anything back. Number four: I’m sorry for being jealous of your relationship with Amanda. You assured me she was just your friend, and I should’ve never doubted you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and I should not have made you feel bad for being just that.”

Sonny broke his gaze away from you. He felt ashamed that he’d missed what others had seen. And that you felt the need to apologize for his actions. That guilt-fueled churning in his stomach he’d become so familiar with made a return.

Still concentrating on your list, you resumed. “And number five: I’m sorry for not being honest about how I was feeling. I pretended I was okay with how things were and that was unfair to you. I should’ve been upfront when I started feeling neglected so that you could’ve had the chance to respond. I’m not apologizing here today with the expectation that I’ll be forgiven.” You wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. “I know I’ve caused damage that I may not be able to repair. I want to be with you Sonny, if you’ll have me. I promise to be more open, understanding, and to communicate better. I love you, and I’m willing to put in the work to fix us.”

You put your phone away and gave him a look that you hoped conveyed all the remorse you felt. “If there’s anything else I’ve missed that I still need to apologize for, feel free to tell me. I’m ready to take responsibility for my mistakes.”

Sonny sat in silence for a beat, a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. You’d said your piece, and now you’ll have to live with the consequences. You held your breath and braced yourself for whatever he had to say next.

“…My hairbrush,” he said flatly. Unsure if you’d heard him correctly, you couldn’t help but give a confused look. “You took my hairbrush with you that night. My hair’s looked like crap ever since.”

You immediately burst out laughing, folding in half in your seat. He just wanted to hear you laugh again. It’d been so long since he’d heard your laugh. It was the most magical sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, I’m sorry for that, too,” you wheezed out as you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t take it on purpose. That was cruel and unusual punishment.”

Now it was Sonny’s turn to laugh. He chuckled so hard his sides began to hurt. Any tension between you had disappeared. For the past week, you felt like strangers. After all the heartbreak and turmoil, you could finally recognize each other again.

“Thank you, doll, for that very thoughtful apology,” he said once he composed himself. “I forgive you, and I wanna work on fixing us together. But first, it’s my turn to apologize.”

“No, you don’t, Sonny. You’ve already—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “I don’t have a fancy list like you did, but I’ll try my best.”

You smirked and shook your head. He aways poked fun at your lists, and your lists for your lists. You sat back and gave him the floor.

“I’m so sorry I forgot our date. But more than that, I’m sorry for all the canceled dates before that. I know my job’s insane and keeps me away a lot, and you’ve been a saint to put up with me as long as you have. You’re my priority, and from now on, I’m gonna treat you as such.”

You felt a warm glow in your heart. Just a few words, and all the sadness from so many lonely nights seemed to fade away. You could’ve stopped him there, completely content with his apology. But you let him continue letting his feelings out.

“Also, I haven’t been the best at communicating either. I should not have lost my temper the way I did, or confronted you at work. I was angry and afraid, but I should’ve found a better way to express that. I’m gonna work on that.”

With each word he spoke, he could feel his soul getting lighter. Freeing himself of the guilt that had dominated him. And the gentle smile on your face told him that he was saying the right things.

“And with Rollins…you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You opened your mouth to interject, but he held his hand up to stop you. “I understand where the jealousy came from. I just wish you’d told me sooner. But you were right. There’s only so much I can do, and I’m gonna take a step back. I know we can’t just go back to how things were, but I’d like to start fresh and take things slow. I thought I’d lost you—” his voice cracked as he held back his tears.

You reached out your hand from across the bench. What was only a foot or two felt like miles. Like a bridge across stormy waters, bringing you back together. Deeply touched, he took your hand, comforted by the familiar fit in his. “You’re the best part of my life and I’ve been taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”

You looked at him with adoration beaming from your eyes. “I already have.”

He squeezed your hand and gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “Y’know, if you still wanna walk away, now’s your last chance.” He wiped the last remaining tears from your face. “’Cause if you stay, I’m not letting you get away again. Ever.”

You turned your head to kiss his palm that was still lingering on your cheek. “No, Sonny, I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and shook your head, sure in your decision. “There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”

Sonny’s smile was so bright, it could’ve lit up Time Square itself. He pulled you close and wrapped you in an impossibly tight hug. You’d almost forgotten how it felt to be held by him. How warm and safe his arms felt.

“I love you, sunshine,” you murmured against his chest.

“Love you more, doll.” He took your face into his hands and gave you a gentle kiss. You threaded your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Everything and everyone else at the park that day completely faded away – there was just you and him. Goosebumps shot across your body as you got lost in the taste of each other. A kiss that felt as if it were months in the making.

The tender moment was rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, causing you both to giggle. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for the past week, and it seemed like your anxious tummy ache had abruptly disappeared. Sonny sat back so he could see you better. “How’s about we get something to eat? I believe I owe you dinner at a fancy restaurant.”

“Maybe another day,” you replied. “I’d rather go home together and have you cook us something. Is that okay?” Hearing you say that made Sonny teary. You said home. With him.

Together.

He grabbed your hand and kissed it with an enormous grin growing across his face. “That’s more than okay, doll.” With that, you got up and began your stroll through the park back to your apartment.

Back home.

When you arrived, you decided to jump in the shower while Sonny started dinner. He hadn’t been to the store for a couple of days, so it was slim pickings. He found half a carton of eggs and a small cut of pancetta in the back of the fridge. Carbonara it is, then.

He just finished frying the pancetta when you returned to the kitchen. When he turned around at the sound of your footsteps, he was stunned by what he saw. It was you wearing his ratty, gray Fordham hoodie. It was such a normal, everyday thing for you to be wearing. But in that moment, after all you’ve been through, the gesture meant the world to Sonny. He started to feel the cracks of his heart begin to heal.

“Everything okay?” You asked, a bit concerned by his dazed look.

“Yeah, everything’s perfect.”

Sonny plated the pasta, and you sat down for dinner at your tiny table. It felt like ages since you’d gotten to talk to each other. You explained how you wanted to start therapy to work on your self-esteem and conflict avoidance. You wanted to be the best version of yourself for both you and Sonny. He was very encouraging and proud of you for being willing to take that step.

Sonny talked about how he was seriously considering changing his career. “It just feels like the right time, y’know? I’m just worried I’d be letting everyone down. I mean, what if I suck as a lawyer?”

“Listen to me,” you sat your fork down and grabbed his hand. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re following your dream. Anyone who loves you knows that and will support you. Whether you’re a cop, a lawyer, or whatever, I’m gonna be here for you. And I’ll love you through it all. Even if you are a sucky lawyer.”

Sonny’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, and he tried to turn his head to disguise the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. You reached for his chin and gently turned his face back to give him a sweet kiss. “Through it all,” you reiterated. Your gaze briefly shifted from his face to the living room behind him, something seeming awry. “Did you move the bookcase?”

Sonny wasn’t sure what you were talking about until he remembered the hole in the wall the bookcase was now hiding. “Um…how ‘bout we talk about that tomorrow? I think we’ve had enough excitement for today.”

Well, now your interest was definitely piqued. But he was right. There was no need to solve everything in one day.

Once dishes were put away, you decided to turn in early. To say you were both exhausted was an understatement. Sonny crawled into bed behind you and curled his whole body around you. Arms, legs, and all completely cocooning you.

“Sunshine, I can’t breathe,” you eked out from between his arms.

“Well, I told you I wasn’t letting you get away again,” he nonchalantly replied, tightening his grasp around you. “This is your life, doll. Just accept it.”

You belly laughed so hard you would’ve fallen out of bed if Sonny hadn’t been holding you so tightly. “Oh, I have!” You get out in between your giggles. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”

And he believed you.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered as he kissed your cheek. “More than anything.”

“I love you more,” you quietly answered back.

“Not possible.”

Sonny nuzzled his head into the back of your neck, completely enveloped in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. The sound of your breathing lulled him to sleep—the best sleep he’d had in months.

You woke up to the sun creeping in through the curtains. You glanced over at your alarm clock to check the time. 9:45. You’d gotten a much-needed good night’s rest. Sonny, too. He was still knocked out beside you, lying on his stomach with his arms sprawled out in every which way. You couldn’t help but stare. His face was so serene. You could almost make out the faintest hint of a smile. It was such a rare sight to see him so peaceful.

Beginning to stir, Sonny rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “Enjoying the view, doll?” He called you out for staring. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

Your cheeks turned bright red, and you scooched closer to bury your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“I think it’s Sunday.” Sonny’s voice was still gravely from sleep. “We’ve got the whole day to ourselves. Whatcha wanna do, sweetheart?”

“Hmmm…” you briefly considered your options. “Well, staying in bed is tempting.”

“I could be convinced of that. That couch sure made me miss this old bed.”

You looked up at him confused. “The couch?”

“Yeah…” He gave you an embarrassed smile. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch the past couple nights.”

“Why would you do that? That couch is at least a foot too short you.”

“Wasn’t the same in here without you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re my home, doll.”

You’d never felt so in love with him as you did in that moment. “And you’re mine.” You brushed back the hair stuck to his forehead and leaned up to kiss him. He tangled one of his hands in your hair as he caressed your back with the other. Home was the best way to describe how you felt.

You were both startled by Sonny’s work phone ringing. Groaning, you rolled away from him. So much for a Sunday in bed. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to make some coffee for him to take. But he grabbed your arm to stop you. He quickly checked his phone, then dismissed the call and turned it off.

“Don’t you need to answer that?” Sonny always answered his work phone. Night or day, whether he was on the clock or not.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Not my weekend on call. They can figure it out.”

“Sonny, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Pfft, they’re already short-staffed. What’re they gonna do? Fire me?” He poked your side, making you giggle. “Besides, I’ve got much more important things to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Making sure my girlfriend is suitably cuddled.” He pulled you back onto his chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt so comfortable. You were fighting to stay awake, but the rhythm of his heartbeat was so calming, it was lulling you back to sleep.

“Just close your eyes, doll,” he said as he ran his hand up and down your spine.

“But I haven’t seen you in forever.” You let out a huge yawn. “I feel like if I close my eyes, you’ll disappear.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

After a few more beats, you did indeed fall back asleep. Sonny studied your face, memorizing each detail. Every wrinkle, every freckle committed to memory. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to get a second chance with you. Completely content with his life, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, assured he’d have plenty of tomorrows to spend with you.

[metalmonki]

Objection! Part 5

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

2.1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For months the days where just as busy as that first day. Some days were filled with paperwork, some days were spent entirely at the courthouse. More and more I was working independently of Rafael only crossing paths briefly to hand off files or to discuss a case. Rafael had even organised me my own office. As much as I enjoyed the newfound freedom within the DA’s office, I was also missing being so close to Rafael. We still had a little meetings, casual lunches and nights out with the SVU team, but it became less of us and more the whole team.

Finally, a case came up that allowed me to work closely with Rafael again. What started as a runaway with no connection to SVU and turned into a possible stranger abduction had become a massive manhunt for a yet unknown person who was enjoying taunting Rafael in the form of letters with clues which to places with more clues that lead to dead ends. 2 months and hundreds of mans hours had been put into finding this person and we were still no closer. No name, no witnesses, no evidence and 7 missing teenagers. We had rearranged the entire SVU pull pen pushing all tables to the sides and filling the middle of the room with drawing boards. I was currently sat staring at the clues we had been sent. The first ever letter we received from this guy told us that we would find the missing teen just by following his clues. Yet all the clues had led to dead ends. Something wasn’t adding up, something didn’t make sense.

“Y/n we have to go update the mayor” Rafael said coming to a stop next to me.

“Yeah, yeah coming”

“You’ve been staring at these notes for ages” Rafael sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Somethings bothering me about them. I feel like we’ve missed something” I say eyes not leaving the boards in front of me.

“You’ve been working for almost 40 hours, lets update the mayor then you can go home and get some sleep.” Rafael held out a hand to help me up.

I took Rafael’s hand and stood, though my eyes lingered on the boards a second longer. The sketches, cryptic letters, and scribbled coordinates seemed to mock me, each taunt from our unknown suspect ringing louder in my mind. But he was right—I needed a clear head if I was going to see whatever was lurking in the details.

As we made our way to the mayor's office, I replayed the clues in my mind, hoping a fresh perspective or a conversation might help connect the dots. This case had turned into something personal for everyone involved, especially for Rafael, whose frustration was mounting with each letter that slipped through our fingers and led to nothing.

In the elevator, he broke the silence. “You know, we’re close. I can feel it.”

I glanced at him, seeing the exhaustion mirrored in his expression. But there was something else too—a simmering determination that made me feel as if we were on the brink of a breakthrough.

“You think he’s messing with us on purpose?” I asked, voicing a theory that had been nagging me.

“Absolutely. He’s got a plan,” Rafael said, his jaw tight. “And he wants us chasing our tails.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal the marble hall leading to the mayor’s office, but before we could step out, Rafael's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his face darkened.

“It’s another message.”

A chill ran down my spine as he opened the new text. Another cryptic line: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes." It was as if the perpetrator could sense our frustration, even knew that we were about to speak with the mayor.

“Another clue,” I whispered, looking over Rafael’s shoulder. But something was different this time. The tone—it wasn’t taunting. It was almost... instructional.

Rafael took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Looks like we’re not going home anytime soon.”

“No,” I said, a spark of determination reigniting. “But I think we’re finally starting to understand his game.”

As we turned back toward the precinct, abandoning the meeting with the mayor, my exhaustion melted into resolve. I’d follow every hint, trace every step. This time, I was determined to beat him at his own game.

…

The precinct was quiet, nearly deserted, with only the faint hum of overhead lights filling the silence. Midnight was approaching, and most of the team had taken off for a quick break. Olivia and Rafael had left to grab food for everyone, Amanda was somewhere in the break room nursing yet another coffee, and Sonny was curled up in the bunk room, catching some much-needed rest. Finn had gone out hours ago to chase down a lead.

I sat in front of the board, staring at the latest clue we’d pinned up: "When you reach the end of the labyrinth, the prize will be in plain sight. If you just open your eyes."

A familiar presence broke the silence beside me as Nick ambled over, arms crossed, eyes scanning the chaotic tangle of clues, locations, and scrawled notes we’d collected over the past two months. He’d been watching me closely for a while, occasionally throwing out theories, but mostly letting me sift through my own thoughts.

“Still chewing on that one?” he asked, tilting his head toward the new clue.

I nodded, barely looking at him. “Yeah. This one’s different. It’s… almost like he’s taunting us less, like he’s trying to lead us to something.”

Nick furrowed his brow, clearly considering it. “Or maybe he’s getting cocky, slipping up a little.”

I tapped my pen against my notebook, scanning the list of locations we’d already searched, the cryptic clues leading us from one dead-end to another. I was exhausted, but something kept gnawing at me, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. We’d been to all these places, followed every lead, yet somehow, I felt like I’d been staring right at the answer without seeing it.

My mind flashed back to the first letter—the one he’d sent that started this whole twisted game. "You'll find them if you look beyond the obvious."

A realization hit me, cold and electric. “Nick,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “What if we’ve been overthinking this? Maybe the answer isn’t at the end of some long, winding path—it’s been right in front of us all along.”

Nick leaned in, interest sparking in his eyes. “You think he’s hidden something we’ve overlooked?”

“Yes. Or maybe he’s been hiding in plain sight, knowing we’d miss it because we were too focused on finding something complex.” I scanned the board again, every location we’d been to flickering through my mind. Parks, subway stations, alleys, all public spaces with no clear connection other than being… central.

My eyes widened. “Nick, what if he’s been using these places to form a pattern, like a… map?”

Nick straightened, a gleam of understanding lighting his face. “So you think he’s been leading us in circles—maybe around somewhere specific?”

“Exactly.” I felt my pulse quicken. “I think he’s been taunting us by leading us right around his hiding spot, and he’s getting a thrill out of knowing we haven’t found it. But I need to check, and I can’t explain why just yet.”

I turned to Nick, urgency thickening in my voice. “Come with me. We have to go now, but don’t tell anyone. Not until we’re sure.”

He looked at me, searching my face, his jaw tightening as he weighed my request. Then, without another word, he grabbed his jacket off the back of a nearby chair. “Alright, I’m with you.”

We slipped out of the precinct, moving quickly and quietly down the stairwell and out the back exit. The chill of the night air hit me as we stepped onto the empty street, adrenaline sparking through my veins.

“You have any idea where we’re headed?” he asked as we walked.

I gave him a small smile, my confidence growing. “I do. I just hope I’m right.”

And as we headed toward our destination, a strange sense of clarity washed over me. The missing piece was within reach; I could feel it. This time, we weren’t going to let him slip through our fingers.

The streets were empty as Nick and I navigated our way through the quiet alleys, following my hunch toward one of the oldest and most forgotten parts of New York’s sewer system. With each step, the city above felt more distant, the buildings looming like silent witnesses to our descent. We slipped through an unmarked, rusted gate, making our way down a narrow, crumbling stairwell that reeked of mold and decay. Somewhere ahead of us was an answer—a clue, maybe even one of the missing teens—but right now, every instinct was screaming that this was a mistake.

“Are you sure about this?” Nick murmured as we approached a door at the end of the passage, barely visible in the dim light of my flashlight.

“Positive,” I whispered back, my voice tight with anticipation and dread. The door was dented and corroded, with a single piece of paper pinned to it. I lifted my flashlight, illuminating a simple, handwritten message: Welcome, Rafael Barba.

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the name, the ink bold and deliberate. “He was expecting Rafael,” I whispered, pulling the note down with a trembling hand.

Nick glanced around, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. “Looks like he planned something special.”

I crumpled the note, stuffing it in my pocket. “We’re here now. Let’s see what he had in mind.”

I pushed the door open, and we stepped inside, the smell of damp concrete and rust thickening in the air. Before I could react, the door slammed shut behind us with a heavy clang, echoing through the tunnel as it locked into place. Nick spun around, yanking on the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“It’s locked,” he muttered, frustration flashing in his eyes.

I felt my stomach twist as an unsettling silence settled over us, thick and foreboding. And then, a crackle overhead—a faint hum of static that made my heart pound. Somewhere in the darkness, an intercom system buzzed to life, and a voice filled the room, low and edged with disappointment.

“Well, well,” the voice drawled, with an eerie calmness that sent chills down my spine. “I was expecting Rafael Barba. But instead, he sends his… assistant.” A pause, as if he were savoring the surprise. “Not what I had hoped for. But I suppose you’ll do.”

I clenched my fists, anger simmering beneath my fear. “If you wanted Barba, maybe you should’ve faced him directly, instead of hiding behind your little clues.”

The voice chuckled, a cold, amused sound. “You misunderstand, my dear. This was never about facing Barba—it was about creating something he couldn’t ignore. A labyrinth, an elaborate little puzzle designed just for him. I wanted to watch him sweat, watch him chase his own tail. Just like I had to do when I begged him to take my sisters case” He paused, his tone turning playful. “But now, it seems I’ll get to see you and your friend test your wits instead.”

Nick tightened his grip on his flashlight, his jaw clenched. “We’re not playing your game.”

“Oh, but you already are,” the voice purred. “In fact, you’re at the very heart of it.”

I scanned the room, my pulse racing. The walls were lined with passages, each one barely visible in the dim light, twisting and disappearing into darkness. The intercom crackled again, the voice practically dripping with satisfaction.

“I’ve left you a series of clues,” he continued, “if you can find them, that is. Each path you choose will lead you deeper into the labyrinth. Or… to a dead end.” He laughed softly, the sound echoing around us. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even get out alive.”

Nick shot me a look, his expression deadly serious. “What’s the plan, then?”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “We play along. For now. But we stay sharp and look for a way to turn this back on him. He thinks he’s got us trapped, but that’s his first mistake.”

The intercom crackled again. “Tick-tock, Y/N. Time is running out. I’ll be watching—don’t disappoint me.”

The line went silent, leaving us in darkness, with only the soft, persistent drip of water echoing through the tunnels. I gritted my teeth, the weight of the situation sinking in. He wanted a game? We’d give him one he wouldn’t forget.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee

[hexgaywire]

"Taking Care of You While You're Sick" (HC)

[Nijisanji EN Boys Edition]

Ft. Vox Akuma, Sonny Brisko, Ren Zotto, And Hex Haywire

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

Disclaimer and Reminder; this is based on the characters made by NIJISANJI, not the people behind the character voicing them. If in the future the person expresses or states that fics of this nature makes them uncomfortable I will 100% remove this or anything I write about the characters involved.

F,M,GN?: GN

Warning: Ren swearing like once? Other than that none

Word count: 958

Authors note: Listen if I had to pick one man from each group to take care of me it would be these four. I'm being selfish, I'm sick, and biased but I hope you enjoy regardless. (This is also really short, I wanted to write some feel good stuff, I'm sorry)

Reminder that my requests are open! If you wanna send me one please do!

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

Vox is very observant and notices you're a little off right away

He takes to canceling whatever he and you have on your schedule today

You have errands to run, laundry to do, homework to do? Too bad you've been bed ridden

He refuses to let you put any stress on until you're 100% better

Vox takes you home and sets you up to be comfortable

"I have to make a quick run to the grocery store, call me if you need me for anything"

He really was quick because it couldn't have been more than 15 minutes before he returns with an arms full of groceries

He fixes you a cup of tea, checking your temperature while you sip on it

Vox rummages around in the groceries and pulls out some fever reducers and gives them to you to take

While you relax he makes you the best soup you've ever had

You didn't realize how hungry you were until you ate, Vox is just happy you're enjoying his cooking

Vox insists on staying the night and won't take no for an answer

He may be a (voice) demon but he's a demon who cares for his clan

Sonny works a lot so he's a little slow to figure out your sick

It was a cough in the middle of a sentence you tried to suppress that got him

Once he realizes your sick, similar to Vox, he sends you home immediately making sure you are not doing anything else except for focusing on getting better

He ties up things at work quickly so he can come over and take care of you, he even takes a couple days off just for good measure

You're not expecting the VSF Commander knocking at your door with your favorite comfort food, meds, and vitamins

But you know it's always welcome

After he makes sure you eat he cleans up for you and then suggests you go lie down on the couch

Sonny does some light food prep for you so you don't have to strain yourself when your hungry

You fade in and out of consciousness while you watch Sonny Brisko putt around your home taking care of little things

When you eventually drift off to sleep he gently checks your temperature with his hand and deems you stable enough to carry to your bed

After tucking you in he can't in good conscience leave, what if something happens??

Sonny grabs a wet cloth to place on your head and eventually sits by the edge of you bed to watch over you

He too eventually passes out and when you wake up you see him there...

You feel safe and cared for knowing Sonny is at arms reach, just for you.

Ren is still learning about human culture

So when your voice comes out horse, he laughs and asks

"What's up with your voice?"

You explain to him that you aren't feeling well today and apologize

"YOUR SICK!? Oh shit uh I've been told about how to deal with this! Let me help you? Please."

How could you say no to him

Ren whisks you away to your room stating it was crucial for humans to get plenty of rest when they aren't feeling well

You can't argue with that and tell Ren you'll take a nap

Once he's sure you're asleep, he runs out to the pharmacy

He returns with almost the entire pharmacy, just in case....

You awake again when Ren places a towel on your head

He smiles down at you hand hands you some water as you sit up

"Staying hydrated is also important when you're sick, the towel thing is also important for... something probably"

You laugh as he rustles around grabbing something else

He hands you a fist full of pills, that's when you notice the stack of medicine boxes behind him

You gently explain to him that taking that amount of medicine could potentially make you more sick

You list off a few medicine names and he hands them to and you take them

"I guess I still have a few things to learn when it comes to taking care of humans..."

You gently squeeze his hands and thank him for being here, because being sick alone is scary

You're lucky Ren is here

Being sick often, Hex hones in that your feeling sick before you do

"You should head home. You're sick."

You're dumbfounded you had stuff that needed to be done, but your thoughts of work are interrupted by the oncoming of a splitting migraine

Resigning with a sigh you excuse yourself to your home

Not two minutes after you settle into bed you get a knock at your door

You're greeted by Hex carrying his favorite soup for the both of you

You invite him in and he asks you to sit and he'll grab anything you need

While the two of you eat Hex turns into a mother hen and asks you for all your symptoms and how your feeling, constantly checking on you

Hex is honestly an angel, he cleans up after you eat, grabs your medicine from your medicine cabinet, he even offers to do any chores you need immediate help with

You feel selfish for making him worry

He assures you that you'd do the same for him, you have done the same for him

It's the least he can do to help ease the burden while your sick

He helps you back to bed and meekly asks if you want him to stay

You'd be honored to have him stay especially since he's such a good caretaker

You thank him for his help and again he says he's just happy to look after you

-------- ••• ------- ✧ °✧° ✧ -------- ••• -------

[dreamsinarcadia]

Mistletoe

In which Heungmin and his best friend find themselves under the mistletoe over the years (and he’s pretty much to blame for it)

pairing: sonny x bestfriend!reader

warning: fluff fluff fluff

Part 2 ➡️

8 years old

“Heungmin,” she ground out with barely concealed annoyance. “Give it back.”

The wishlist that had been oh so carefully curated was currently in the grubby hands of the bane of her existence - the neighborhood’s spawn of satan himself, Son Heungmin.

Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. But she was certain that the boy had made it his life’s purpose to grate her nerves from the moment they had met.

“I think the address is wrong,” he muttered, scanning the paper with narrowed eyes. “Doesn’t Santa live in the South Pole?”

“It’s the North Pole!” she snapped, reaching forward to try and snatch it from his grasp. The entirety of her morning had been spent scribbling furiously in the garden, ignoring her father’s witty comment about smoke practically pouring from her ears. There was no room for error - she would be competing with countless other children for a place in Santa’s list! This had to be perfect.

Of course, perfection was hard to achieve with Heungmin looming over like a storm cloud waiting to unleash a torrential downpour on her. Not to mention his cheeky smile almost sent her over the edge. Clearly he’d accomplished his task of annoying her for the day.

Ambling forward as smoothly as he could (a difficult task when wrapped in dozens of layers upon the insistence of his mother), he plopped down beside her and peered down at the list again.

“A book?” he balked. “Of all the things you could ask for, a book?” He’d grown to hate her newfound hobby of reading books. Ever since the new library had opened in their town, she’d been holed up between shelves of pristine books for hours on end. Heungmin wasn’t exactly fond of the new-found silence he'd become accustomed to; he always looked forward to her sarcastic commentary that always accompanied weekend night football. He missed having someone to stand in the unforgiving winter cold, clad in goalkeeper gloves (her mother’s oven mitts), and endure goal after goal as he practiced his penalty kicks and headers.

“Give it back!”

"No, I don’t think I will," he sang merrily, legs carrying him out of the porch and into the warmth of her home, dashing down the hallway up the staircase, narrowly missing a near collision with the family cat sprawled on one of the steps. He was much faster than she was and he knew it. He was faster than everyone in their grade, his height granting him an entirely unfair advantage over their peers.

"Heungmin, I’m telling your mother!" She warned as he skidded to a halt on the landing, arm practically stretched up to the heavens with her letter to Santa firmly grasped in his hand. With his other hand, he begun to rummage around in his pocket for something.

“Just give it back,” she whined pitifully, realising that her previous threats just fell on deaf ears. From beside him, she tried in vain to jump up and grab the letter from between his stupid fingers.

Grinning widely, Heungmin quickly pulled the letter away from her to hide it behind his back and replaced it with whatever he had managed to finally find in his pocket. “For the price of one kiss, you can have it back,” he offered with a cheeky smile, bringing a basil sprig between their heads.

She looked up at it, physically unable to hold back the eye roll. She’d seen plenty of adults on television sharing an intimate moment below a certain type of greenery during the holiday season. While it was a lovely tradition, it required a specific kind of a leathery-leaved plant. “That’s not even mistletoe.”

“You try finding mistletoe in Chuncheon,” he said with a shrug. “I had to make do with the next best thing.”

“Oh great, so you attacked my mother’s pot of basil leaves?”

“… please don’t tell her.”

Her brows arched in a look of defiance. “Try me.”

He wiggled the basil leaves. “Then say goodbye to your precious letter to Santa.”

Taking a step back, she cocked her head and peered up at the makeshift mistletoe in a moment of contemplation. Her options were limited, true, but it was hardly the end of the world. Just the thought of redoing the list brought her a bigger headache than Heungmin could ever induce.

And so, with tiny hands balled into fists, she took a decisive step forward and stood on her tiptoes to level their gaze.

Heungmin tried his best to mask his excitement, he really did, but nothing could have stopped the immediate bolt of lightning that struck his very being and coloured his cheeks and ears an adorable shade of pink when she yanked him forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

Taking advantage of his moment of disbelief, she reached behind him to snatch the letter from his grasp, call him an idiot and dash down the stairs with a speed that rivalled his own.

Heungmin, watching her disappear around the corner with a dopey little smile on his face, pressed the basil sprig close to his chest.

Christmas was fun.

•

Christmas fics in January? Why not? Truly a product of my own laziness. Part 2 awaits you 🥹

[be-my-ally]

Throw Me

co-authored with @thatbanditqueen (and alpha'd/edited/perfected by @whositmcwhatsit)

So, this took us forever + a day (entirely my fault - poor Norah had to put up with me abandoning the document and then popping back in all ‘c’mon now let’s finish this week!’ and falling asleep on her and making her do all the writing)  - this all started from a wonderful, fantastic, delicious collaborative fantasy (masterminded, if I remember correctly, by @thatbanditqueen) between @whositmcwhatsit, @ellie-24 and @vintageshanny and myself - about how delicious it would be to be taught karate by elvis.

Now, in turning this into fic some things changed but, I'm pretty sure that just means that everyone needs to write karate fic asap; i think @ellie-24 had some excellent suggestions about jewellery and @vintageshanny on deliciously torn pants & @whositmcwhatsit on the joys of mirrors and chairs (please I still need all of these). More elvis karate fic in the world is needed.

warnings: 18+ ...karate, being taught karate, elvis doing karate, all the karate, elvis pulls a gun (in play), p in v sex - it gets cute and sappy by the end.

pairing/summary: 1974 elvis x female oc -- Olivia's been invited to Graceland for the week and Elvis takes the opportunity to teach her some moves.

wc: 9.3k

Summer/Fall 1974 Graceland

“S’alright honey, you’ll jus’ take off your shoes anyway, so c’mon.”

Olivia looked up from where she had paused in the hallway, her long, ash blonde swaying in time to the impatient snaps of Elvis’ fingers. She stopped unbuckling the clasp on her purple platform shoes, glancing up with her light blue eyes to where Elvis stood in his gi. His shoulders were so taut that it made his uniform’s red collar stick straight up, broad and athletic. 

Pulling on his collar, she ran a finger over his warm neck as she tried to summon the allure to distract him away from what would be the fourth, the fourth, karate class this week. She hesitated when she thought she saw Elvis’ eyes flicker with a teasing glint as she ran her hand through her hair, but she still tried, making her voice breathy and girlish. 

“Why don’t we take a break from the lessons and you can just show me some moves alone. Upstairs.”  

Elvis smirked and shook his head. “Nah uh, now, this is important. Billy’s already down at the gate gathering up the other gals, so we gotta hop to it. They have clean robes there, baby.” 

With a loud slap to her butt, Elvis grinned and the discussion was over as she followed him out of the house and towards the carport. 

Olivia leaned back in her seat as they drove to the karate studio, thinking of the last time she had been to Memphis. That week had been a dreamy unreal blur of swimming, BBQ, late night jam sessions and pranks at Graceland. When Joe had called last week and asked if he could fly her up to Memphis, Olivia had squealed and immediately packed her travel bag for another romantic week at Graceland.

Man oh man, had she been wrong. The very first day had dashed her expectations to bits when Elvis had taken an hour away from her to have a screaming match over the phone, with whom was not mentioned, and Olivia didn’t dare ask, although she suspected Linda Thompson. Then came the news about the attacks downtown. Elvis had heard the call over his police scanner about another rape downtown, the fifteenth this month in a series of assaults on young women in Memphis, all believed to be perpetrated by the same blonde guy in a ski mask. He became obsessed with “solving the case” - his police badge permanently hanging around his neck like a real detective, and he spent an extremely long time planning how he could lead an elite group of his mafia in tracking that “sonofabitch down and showing him what happens to rapists in ma home town,” until Sonny had talked him down, or rather, redirected him to teaching girls self defense. Thus, Elvis was now convinced that Olivia, and any other female in a five mile radius, needed to learn how to protect themselves. And he knew just which karate master had been put on this earth to teach them. And so she spent every afternoon at the dojo. 

The dojo wasn’t all bad. Elvis was cute in his uniform, and when he grunted doing moves, oh brother. But she felt uncomfortably awkward when he called her up to practice in front of everyone, all eyes on her. And, perhaps even worse was his insistence on going around the room; making her watch him with all the other girls they rounded up at the gate to come learn self defense.

Olivia felt as though she were in the crush of fans going to a concert as they walked upstairs to the karate studio. Elvis turned at the top of the stairs, swinging his arms, a big, boyish smile cresting his cheeks when he looked down at the eager karate students below him as if he were leading them to the promised land, instead of a large, wood paneled dojo that smelled like sweaty boys.

Feeling shy and very out of her element. Olivia slowly meandered through the dressing room tying the white band at her waist, and then immediately slinked to the back of the classroom to hideout while she watched the lesson.

Elvis introduced himself, an earnest, serious expression on his face as he spoke to the class, arms rising and expanding on either side as he spoke about the dojo, pausing for dramatic effort between sentences. 

“Here, in the confines a this room, I’m not Elvis Presley, I’m not an entertainer, I’m just a simple karate master. Mister Tiger. That’s the name I was given, s’meaningful, cuz the tiger, in Japan, where he is called the kanji, he is a symbol of brav’ry, of strength, and the tiger there protects people from evil. And that’s what I do, and that’s what we’re doing here today, ladies. Me, and these other karate masters here, we are gonna protect you by teaching you how to protect yourself.”

Mister Tiger then led them in a long, rambling guided meditation replete with even more tangential bible verses than yesterday. Today, apparently, was an auspicious day to learn self defense. It was also an auspicious day to do karate in white go go boots. There were others amongst the cadre of masters at the front of the room who wore colored robes: black, blue,or the patriotic print of the American flag. But none of them looked like Elvis, with his eye make up, resplendent flared out pants with bows and shiny, red satin lining. He could easily have been on stage in Vegas, and, yet, he seemed completely at home at the front of the room explaining how to gouge out a man’s eyes, and beckoning Red up for a demo.

The lessons had a formula to them. Elvis would start by beckoning David and Red up to play the role of alternating assailants while he played the role of the lady, pretending to cry out in despair before turning with a growl and vehemently demonstrating a technique to grab, strike and flip over a male attacker. He was utterly captivating as he grew progressively sweatier in his gi, smiling with glee each time he threw Red or David to the floor, or when the blush spread across his cheeks when Master Rhee praised him.

Then came the mechanics, as Elvis concocted more elaborate and involved scenarios in which an assailant would come at you with a gun down an alley, or catch you on the stairs at a car park. This was followed by longer and longer demonstrations as Mister Tiger showed the audience every possible strike to disarm and take down Red, step-by-step. The throat, groin and knee were the money shots, Elvis explained, then showed them how to hit Red in each spot, grunting with a scowl as he jabbed his friend in the nuts. By the time that part of the lesson concluded itself with Red insistently tapping out Elvis was shining with a layer of perspiration, strands of hair stuck to his forehead as he leaned into his thighs. In action, he commanded Olivia’s full attention. But then during his lectures, Elvis would get intensely serious, his explanations became more drawn out, and it became harder and harder to stay focused.

Staring out of the window, Olivia lost herself in a daydream of her and Elvis driving away in the convertible she could see parked just below. Alone. She was, however, suddenly roused from these delightful thoughts by the sound of clapping, the women applauding as Elvis announced his demonstrations were over. She turned to find a line of women snaking around the mats waiting to start practicing some of the moves with Red, Dick and Bill, while Elvis paced between them, correcting the girls' stances and flirting with them in hushed tones as they giggled. 

Olivia stood too, trying to blend into the background as she walked along the back of the room, gliding her hand over the stack of mats. She turned to see Elvis with his hand on another girl’s back and she sighed, reminding herself that it was all part of the lesson, all part of who Elvis was, it didn’t mean anything. She shifted back on top of the mats, catching him staring at her, and her legs froze mid swing, his eyes narrowed and his hand still on the other woman. If he thought she was going to get in line like any other random stranger and humiliate herself trying to flip over Red, he had another thing coming. She wasn’t doing it again.

Nope, no sirreee. Sports were not her thing, she had almost fainted yesterday when he called her up to model a strike to David’s chest. Yes, the attacks downtown were awful, but the truth was that she still wasn’t comfortable attacking anyone, or even pretending to, and nor did she have any intention of going alone into the alleys of downtown Memphis any time soon. George had introduced them, what, two months ago? And in the intervening time, Joe had now called her three times, inviting her to come up to Memphis to spend a week with Elvis while he was home from touring. In all her visits, Olivia had learnt that the only place she was ever really alone in Graceland were the bathrooms. She smiled feebly at Elvis’ pursed lips, and settled back on the stack of mats to wait.

It was another hour before Elvis felt satisfied that every woman in the room had gotten the opportunity to scream at one of the guys and flip him over onto the mat. With Elvis’ tutelage, they also got to strike David or Red in the throat, heart and nutsack. At least once; though Elvis had encouraged them to take advantage of the opportunity and have as many goes at the boys as they desired. One short, slender woman had attacked both guys in the nuts with each of her limbs twice, shouting a loud “hiya!” every time. A girl sitting next to Olivia explained, “Oh that’s just Sapphire, she’s a elementary school teacher. SO, you know.”

Exhausted and grumpy, the guys began shepherding the group out and Olivia jumped off the mats to join them, stopping and furrowing her brow as she watched Elvis whisper with Billy and then thank Master Kang Rhee, looking over at her as they spoke. They were suddenly alone in the studio, and Olivia began to walk backwards into the tower of mats as Elvis advanced towards her.

“So, don you need to learn any a this, huh?” 

Olivia bit her lip, and awkwardly rubbed her hands together as she tried to figure out how to get around him and maneuver them back to Graceland where they could maybe go for a swim and cuddle in bed and things could be sweet and fun and romantic like they had been on her last trip to Memphis.

“It’s not that, I just - I was never good at sports.  It’s embarrassing, Elvis - “

“You know, this ain’t Oxford, Mississippi, lil girl.” He narrowed his eyes at Olivia and pursed his lips, his boots landing with a thud as he slowly sauntered over with his hands on his hips. Or rather, right below, thumbs in the red satin belt of his gi.

Olivia sucked in her breath, mumbling, “I know, but I just -”

“Memphis might be the big city for you now, and you feel safe here ‘cause you’re with me. I get that, baby. But what if you get a modeling gig up in New York City? Hmmm? I ain’t always gonna be ‘round.” He shook his head, tutting at her in admonishment.  

He quirked his eyebrow at her. “C’mon, walk that fine little bottom over here, Lolly. Ain’t gonna have you leave without learning some moves.” It was not a question, but a command.

Olivia pushed herself off the mats, slowly making her way over to Elvis despite a sense of foreboding. She immediately felt him crowd behind her, the warmth of his chest and stomach, warm and sweaty from the lessons, now pressed against her back as he clutched her close. He positioned them both to face the mirror set into the paneling of the wall of the room, 

“Right then honey, just like this, you gotta plant your feet like this. ” She nodded, although she was immediately distracted from watching where he placed his legs by the feeling of his hands gathering up her long hair into a ponytail in his palm and brushing it over one shoulder. She sucked in a shiver.

“Pay attention now, this is important - you see?” He spread his legs - demonstrating behind her and nudging her with his boot to spread her feet further apart. Paying attention was almost impossible when he leaned in to rest his chin against her neck before he pointed at the mirror. The room was silent except for the sound of their breath as Elvis corrected her stance.

“Nah, honey, see.” His hands were at her waist, roughly trying to angle her towards her front knee. 

Olivia couldn’t decide if she should try harder or let him keep correcting her so she could enjoy the delicious feeling of his warm, sweaty hands moving over her body to work her into position. A herd of horses galloping over her chest, pulsing up through her ears from the strange mix of self-consciousness and arousal every time his fingers gently clenched around her. 

Something about performing karate made her self-conscious, it was the total opposite of how she felt modeling, which she had been doing since her mama started her in pageants as a little girl. This, this was unknown. The mirrors and strangers in the room had felt almost overwhelming and she’d yet to really try; feeling like everyone’s eyes had been on her from the moment Elvis held her arm while she climbed out of the car. Alone though, now, with his arms at her side, Olivia began to think she might be able to give it a go, and moved her feet apart. 

He tutted, “No, no, no, Lolly baby!” He shook his head and moved away from her shoulder to stand upright, gripping her waist and inserting his leg between hers. There was an insistent press from his knee to her thigh until she begrudgingly spread them further. “Just a little bit farther apart…” He huffed as he shimmied her legs open, murmuring against her hair, “for balance.” 

Olivia tried to reply, but her words caught in her throat, and she was unable to respond as she stared at his leg between hers in the mirror. She could feel his fingertips dig into her waist even through the heavy white cotton of her jacket.

“Now, honey, you should know this,” He breathed a laugh almost too close to her ear. “You gotta loosen up too, baby, let me position you.” He paused to move away and look her over, assessing her position. “This ain’t a tournament, we’re just playin’ aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re just playing.” She repeated back to him a little dumbly. He nodded and stepped back to anchor her body with his. He was still earnestly focused on instructing her, nudging her thighs with his leg again, forcing her to spread her legs wider before running his hands down to her hips, and maneuvering her to twist to the side. His warm breath was on the back of her neck just for a moment. She can feel herself tremble a little, shoulders twitching and she’s surprised he doesn’t seem to have felt it, shuddering when he presses his lips to her hair for the briefest of seconds. She stumbled back a little, losing her balance enough that she was forced to rest against him as she followed his body. Elvis was oblivious to the effect he was having on her and remained intent on getting her form right, sliding one hand down to her leg, spreading his own to allow him to reach further down, and pushing her forward - bending her knee himself while gripping onto her other thigh. Putting her with her front leg bent and low, and her back leg straight, long thick fingers tight on her thigh. 

“This is called zenkutsu dachi,” He pats her bent thigh, “this leg gives you a bit more power to your punches.” Olivia peers down at where his hand remains resting on her leg, and he uses his other to bring her chin to face directly in front of her. He takes a step back to look over her form, “Hmm, good.” 

Elvis moves around, circling her, before coming to a stop in front of her, and pulling at her hands where they’d rested by her sides, to form a fist. She instinctively tucks her thumb in and he rolls his eyes at her, tutting, 

“You haven’t been paying any kind of attention have you?” pulling her thumb back out. “Guess I’ll just have to start from scratch.” He stretches his own arm out front of himself, holding his hand flat vertically and demonstrating how he curls his fingers before twisting the fist horizontally. 

“Elvis -”

“Na uh, baby, Mister Tiger.”

Olivia rolled her eyes at his smirk.

“Oh, right. Mister Tiger. Aren’t you tired? Should we maybe head out?”

His eyes moved over her, his hands were back at his hips. “Sho honey, soon as you throw me. You get through an attack and throw me to the mat, then lickety split, we’re on our way home.”

Olivia giggled. “Elvis, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

His hand was back on her shoulder, rubbing it. “Sure you can, baby, cuz Imma teach ya. Right here. Now, come on. Let’s try that fist.”

She nods and watches him again, repeating the action with her own hand.

“So, you punch from here,” he slides his hands around her middle, “right round by this itty bitty waist of yours.” Then grips her newly formed fists and tugs them into the proper position. 

“Your hands rest here - you gotta return ‘em here whenever you finish with the move… Well, at least, as a beginner - and then from here you can step forward into an oi-zuki - that’s a punch like this.” Elvis’ brow furrowed in concentration, before he demonstrated with a shout. Olivia jumped a little, not expecting it, and he flashed her a grin. “The shout - that’s called a kiai.” He stands back up, strutting in front of her with his arms crossed, a fierce, boyish pride on his face.

“Now you give it a go.” She was a little nervous but still, she complied, performing for him and even remembering to return her fists back to the same position after. 

“No. You gotta do it with the kiai. Do it again.” 

“Slave-driver.” She was kidding, smiling as she said it, but his facial expression dropped.

“It takes time, Lolly, to get it right. You wanna half ass everything? Cuz I sure as hell don’t. This is real karate, only kind I know how. But if you ain’t even gonna try, I’m ain’t gonna bother trying to teach you. ‘S fine.” He looked to the side, pouting. He sighed loudly, “I jus, just worry about you, wanted you to know how to defend yourself…” 

“No - No, sorry - Elvis, sorry. You’re right. I do wanna learn… just-” She got back into position. “Show me how it goes again.” He huffed, but then moved into the position to show her again, perking up as he began to take her through it a second time.

“Now your turn.” Olivia mimicked the move, feeling ridiculous as she copied Elvis’ shout this time.

“See, There’s my good lil’ Lolly Ollie. If you lead with the other arm now, that's a gyaku zuki.” She does as he says and he nods, grinning at her efforts. 

“Good girl.” Her tummy flips, as it still does every time he gives her praise she quickly tries to collect herself when he waves a hand as if to make her do it again, and she does, but she pauses after bringing her fists back to her waist. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying the lesson El - I mean Mister Tiger, but can we get to the throwing part? I…weren’t you gonna show me how to defend myself?” He huffs again. 

“Well, yeah. But I gotta teach you the basics first.” His voice takes on an expository tone as he rests his hands on his hips, “It takes a who-ole lot of practice to get this good.” Olivia smiles back at him, 

“And, you are very good at it too.” Despite her best efforts he won’t be deterred, simply agreeing with her. 

“Exactly, so listen up.”

“Perhaps you should just…let me watch?” Elvis looks her over for a moment, blue eyes narrowing, and she’s taken aback when, after a moment, he nods in agreement. 

“Well, I suppose a li’l demonstration might help… yeah, yeah you know what - actually, since you’ve not been paying attention in class, it’ll be useful.” He gives her a stern look, “I’ll have to do my best without a partner, but it’d probably do you good to watch me for a little while.” 

His eyes barely leave himself in the mirror, only occasionally sneaking a glance to see her reaction after he does what he deems to be a more impressive move. It was mesmerizing to watch him reflected around her, alone, moving his body in quick, fluid strokes, all around her. His grunts echoing through the empty studio. His powerful mix of raw passion and discipline remind her of his stage presence, those moments he seemed to go inward and close his eyes and let the energy of the music take over and move his entire body in an electric fit of kicks and thrusts. His voice brings her back to the here and now, alone, on the mat in the dojo, he doesn’t notice the awe and desire in her eyes at first, but then he pauses as he speaks, quirking his head at her and blushing slightly in recognition at her attentive, wide-eyed stare.

“Now Lolly, don’t look at me like that, won’t be able to finish this lesson. “ He slapped her bottom, and stepped aside. “Alright, that was just some blocks, but you’ll need to know more than that if someone grabs you. So, look - c’mere,” He maneuvers her around, pulling her to slightly in front of him “and just, that’s it, stand right there.” 

“Oh…kay.” She obediently goes where he tugs her.

“Right, now, try and grab me.” 

“I’m not doing that - you’ll hurt me!” He smirks, shaking his head. Her voice turns even more shrill, “You were just telling me you’re an expert!” 

“I won’t hurt you, lil gal, I won’t even let you touch the floor, just gotta show you where to place your arms.” He shrugs, exaggerated sad frown on his face, although his tone was unsympathetic, “If only you’d watched earlier… then you wouldn’t have to.” 

“Elv-is! Seriously - I’m not sure about-“ He looks at her flatly, unamused by her protestations, 

“Lolly,” He elongates the vowel making it seem like he was mimicking her, “jus shut up and grab me.” 

Nervous and still not comfortable trying to hurt someone, she half-heartedly tries to grab Elvis from behind. He shakes his head, smiling a little as he starts to mime out throwing her to the floor. 

“So you needta put your arm ‘round em, just like this.” He twists to grip her torso, while sliding his leg around her, “And then, you place your foot here,” She finds that the move tucks her legs between his thighs and she can already sense how he’s about to drop her just from the pressure of the angle, “and then, you push ‘em off balance, with your other hand.” He puts his palm to her other shoulder, pushing a little. “Then you use that momentum to push them to the floor.” He shoves a little harder, before grasping the lapels of her jacket and pulling her back upright. Situating her between his legs again. “Told you I wouldn’t drop you.” 

Olivia finds herself slightly disoriented with the sudden movement, and the squeeze of his thighs against hers, he’s so close he’s blocking her view of everything but his body. Her entire world is enveloped by Elvis in his karate gi. He blows off a puff of hair, tickling the top of Olivia’s head, and she shivers against him, immediately missing his heat when he steps back. 

“Now you try on me.” He grins, “You can put me on the floor if you like.” 

Olivia tries, she really does, but it’s an awkward angle and she can’t quite seem to wrap her hand far enough around to get a good enough grip to make him fall off-balance. He huffs when she struggles to make him move even an inch, 

“C’mon, Lolly, harder - you can do it.” She tries again and Elvis laughs, “You are trying to throw me aren't you?” 

She huffs, teasing back, “Of course!” 

Elvis shoots her a grin, waggling his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Well - actually do it then.” 

She rolls her eyes, but attempts the move, and it only takes a couple more tries before she manages to hook her leg in just the right way to push him over. He smiles proudly at her from his prone position. “That’s it! Good girl!” He launches himself back up, brushing himself off, “See - I knew you could do it!” Olivia nods smiling back at him, 

“It wasn’t that hard really…”  

He lifts an eyebrow, pulling her towards him, fingers curled into the belt of her jacket. 

“So, that’s how to get them to the floor - but what if you have to fight? Kicking is more effective than punching for defense. So now watch.” He shakes her a little when she doesn’t immediately respond, furrow forming in his brow.  “Lolly.’ His voice is serious, earnest, “This is important.” She nods, 

“Sorry! I’m listening. I am. Show me,” He’s still frowning, “Please?”  He doesn’t respond but moves to the side of her to demonstrate,

“For the first, you bring up this leg.” He waits for her to follow, lifting her knee up to a 90 degree angle. “This is called chambering, so you gotta bring up your knee to ‘chamber’ the kick - for, uh, control.” She nods, “And then, you can, uh, flick it up, like this.” 

She tries to do as he does but he immediately comes around to hold her hips.

“No. Not like that. You’ve gotta push through with it, with power - not all… loose and floppy, like that.” He shakes his hands around her hips, mimicking the words as he says them. “Do it again.” She tries again, “Hmm, better.” She brings her foot back down, but he catches her ankle before she can, causing her to stumble a little. 

“Elvis.” She stands upright again, crossing her arms across her chest. “What’s the point of this?” He pouts, mirroring her pose, rubbing his hand down his arm. 

“Honey, your assailant ain’t gonna just stand there and let you flip him. You gotta learn how to really kick that motha out when comes atchya. But If you wanna be attacked by drugged out commies, raped and murdered - boom, bang - BAM, fine, go ahead!” 

He starts to stalk away from her, although she grabs his arm before he can get too far, and though he looks down at her hand with distaste he doesn’t immediately shrug her off. 

“No - no, Elvis, I do. I want to learn, please - pleaase?” He huffs, but nonetheless turns back around and walks back over to the middle of the mat gesturing for her to come back beside him. Olivia tries again but she’s immediately met with a huff.

“No - you’re still not listenin’ to me, and you’re still not paying attention to your goddamn hands. Now you’re using them too much - they’re meant to help you balance, not drive the whole kick.” He’s taken on a particularly patronizing didactic tone, and it does little to make her less irritated. She tries again and he rolls his eyes, 

“... Now, look - let’s try something else.” He looks around for a moment, before his hands come up to fiddle with his black and red belt tied around his waist. He looks up at her, calculatingly, somehow she knows what he’s about to suggest, and she holds up her arms as if to ward him off,

“Oh no, no. Elvis, that won’t help - don’t you even think about it!” He smirks back at her, eyebrow lifting to almost touch his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead.

“Yes Elvis.” He repeats back at her as he unties the belt, curling it around his hand as he does.  She lets out a squeak as he looks over at her, his jacket already starting to fall open of its own accord. She shakes her head while he nods, his face becomes tender.

“Aw, now Lolls, trust me, sweetheart, this will help you focus. Master Rhee tied mine to help me learn how to focus on my legs. I won’t hurt you, promise.” 

This time, when he reaches out to grab her arms she doesn’t protest letting him grasp her hands. He unrolls his red satin belt and slowly loops it over her wrists, tying it with a satisfied nod. 

“Now. Try again.” 

She does as he says, but wobbles not being able to steady herself with her hands. 

“Still not quite. Look, just sit there an’ watch me.”

It’s hard to focus with his jacket now flying open as he demonstrates a seemingly long-winded Kata. Her attention drifted to his tan stomach, the trail of dark hair peeking out from between the white cotton on the gentle swell of his tummy, his skin almost glowing with the light layer of drying sweat that covered him. He suddenly pauses, eyes dark as he looks directly at her “Are you payin’ attention?” She nods frantically, 

“Of course! Of course I am!” 

“Gonna ask you to prove it in a sec. Now watch.” 

He does it again, and she squirms against the smooth glass of the mirror, unable to stop her thighs clenching. Finally, he finishes, striding over to her, undoing her hands to wrap the belt back around his waist. Her stomach flips at his closeness, the touch of his fingers grazing over hers as he helps her up

He smacks her butt again, with a chuckle.

“Alright, Lolly, show me whatcha got.” 

Then Elvis sits down on a chair, getting himself comfortable with his thighs spread and his legs out. 

She closes her eyes in an attempt to center herself back to the task at hand again. Only to jump, hard, when the next thing she knows Elvis’ arms are wrapped around her and there’s the cold metal of the tiny pistol he’d been showing off earlier in the class being pressed against her body. 

“What the hell, Elvis!” 

“How’d you get out of this now?” She struggles against him, trying to wrench herself out of his hold, “C’mon,” He’s growling into her ear, low and rumbly “C’mon, Oh-liv-ia, now, how would’ya get yourself free?” 

“Elvis - this isn’t funny, get offa me!”

“Elvis!” He repeats back, affecting a shrill, mocking tone. “Get offa me!” He teases, and it riles her up, as he intended, but now her movements are focused. 

 “Now. See this is why we havta practice, cuz women go emoti’nal when a bad guy grabs ‘em, just natural, that’s why we gotta run it again ‘til you know you can get it.”

Somehow in the haze of her frustration she manages to shove him back, and gets her knee into the right position to be able to sweep his leg out, using the force of his grip around her to topple him off balance - although she goes straight down with him, falling on top of him with a startled yelp, and a grunt from him on impact. 

“See. I told you you could do it Lolly girl!” He chuckles, breath tickling her ear, 

He rolls her over, notching his knees on either side of her waist, his hands almost instinctively pinning hers above her head. She can feel the heat of his belly pushing into her, and she rocks ever-so-slightly against him. He blows away the strands of hair that have fallen out on her face, his hands still holding her secure against him. 

“If I really tried you wouldn’t be able to get away.” She squirms a little, not really trying that hard to get out of his grip.

“I don’t wanna get away.”

The smirk on his face turned to a sweet, boyish smile. “Hmmm, that right?”

Olivia moved her forefingers inward to tickle his palms.

“Uh huh, got you right where I want you, mister tiger.”

Elvis leaned forward, loosening the tight grip he had on her wrists to palm over her hands, pressing them into the mat. His breath was warm on her neck as he spoke.

“Grrrrrrr”

They both start to laugh at his silly growls, but then, all of a sudden, the laughing stopped, replaced by an intense, lingering stare. Elvis trailing his thumb down her jaw, and she could feel a twitch between his legs, where he pressed into her. A hunger grew in his eyes as he thrust forward slightly.

“Time to go.”

He jumped back like a rubber band snapping into place, and held out his hand to pull her up. Startled, and not a little disorientated Olivia smoothed down her top.

“Ok, I’ll just go change -”

“Nah, leave it on.” 

He kept a tight hold of her wrist, not letting her stray as he bends with a slight grunt, tugging his white boots back on with a stomp of each foot. Elvis pulled her closer, his arms enclosing her, and turning her around as they looked into the mirror. Olivia could feel him prodding into the small of her back, as he tightened his grip around her. Just the warmth of his skin grazing the curve of her breasts made her nipples tingle and harden. He seemed to feel the longing rising up from her core as he leaned closer, resting his chin into her neck as he looked at their reflection, his fingers grazing over her bosom as he drew his hand across her body.

“I like the way it looks on you, baby.” 

Olivia pushed off of him, and turned, walking backwards towards the door. 

“Yeah, I bet you got a good view looking up at me from the floor when I threw you, Mister Tiger!” she giggled, waggling her eyebrows playfully as Elvis shook his head and followed her.

“Ha, only reason you threw me is cuz I wanted you to throw me, honey. Trust that. Looks like you forgot the most important lesson in karate.” 

There was a playful bravado in his eyes as he quickened his stride, the sound of his white boots squished over the vinyl mats. Olivia let out a nervous laughter and turned to look over her shoulder as she stumbled back, turning just in time to see him grab her and throw her over his shoulder. 

“Respect your sensei.”

The stairway echoed with the sound of Elvis’ hand slapping her butt and Olivia’s shrieks and giggles as he carried her towards the car. He seemed unphased by Red’s impatient glare as he and David leaned against the Stutz, smoking. Elvis’ eyes were focused on Olivia, and he looked over at her in silence as they drove back to Graceland, a goofy, boyish grin on his face as she leaned into his shoulder. He shook his head as she slyly swiped her hand over his thigh, feathering just above his groin. 

Once they were back at the house, Olivia hurried out of the car as he grunted his thanks to the boys. She was almost down the hallway behind the kitchen when he caught up with her, pinching her at her waist to walk behind her.

“Hmmmm, this kinda behavior fly with your teachers back in Oxford?”

A warmth spreads through her chest at the way his arms embraced her, and Olivia turned, wrapping her hands around his neck, almost overwhelmed by the tenderness she feels towards Elvis, whispering into his neck.

“Ugh, all my professors are old fuddy duddies, where’s the fun in teasing them.”  

She looks up, meeting Elvis eyes and swallowing at the intense desire bubbling up her throat. Recognition spread through his body, and his bottom lip dropped open as he scooped her up and carried her up the narrow back staircase behind the den. 

“Good baby, that’s good. Can’t bear the idea of you even talkin’ to another man.”

Elvis settles his hands at her bottom, fingertips gripping hard into the tops of her thighs as he hoisted her a little higher on him, dropping her down upstairs as he leads her through the walk-in closet and bathroom. The backway to his room.

All of a sudden, Elvis seems to become shy, rubbing his hands as he looks down at her feet. Olivia knows this mating ritual well, Elvis’s shift from confident bossman in front of the guys to fumbling, unsure boy. Olivia runs her fingers up his gi, trailing over the shiny, red satin of his uniform’s trim, to pull on his belt, though not too much, anxious to let him take the lead. 

“S’not fair, your uniform is so much nicer than mine.” She pouts.

Elvis’ voice becomes a low, breathy whisper. “Aw, now, Lolly, if you really think you wanna learn more now, I can get you a gi just like mine, baby.” 

He nuzzles her neck as he speaks, and Olivia leans into his nose.

“I do wanna learn more, E, I think.” She runs her hands up his side with longing. “I think I’m starting to like karate.”

Elvis arched his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, I do have a pretty hot teacher.” She giggled. “He showed me some pretty slick moves today.” She bites her lip, drawing him backwards to the bed.

“Hmm, that right?”

Olivia cocks her eyebrow up, and before Elvis realizes it, she turns inward, hitches her foot behind his heel, and tries to grip him and toss him on the bed. He wobbles, but deflects and they tumble backwards together. 

“See, honey, I told you I let you throw me before -” She pouts, she wasn’t entirely unsuccessful - he’s still ended up exactly where she wanted him to be. “Aw - no, don’t look at me like that Lolly, baby - you just, you just need some more practice that’s all.” He pats at her cheek, encouraging her to look at him, “just a few more lessons, then I’m sure you’ll be able to get me good.” Olivia nods, lips softening out of their pout at his earnest expression, thumb rubbing the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes try to track his fingers, and it’s as if he suddenly becomes aware of the charged atmosphere again. His lips quirk as he trails his hand down her side, causing her to tremble against him. She turns, rolling even closer, and he twists himself to lean over her a little, thumb idly stroking her soft, pebbling, skin. It made her chest tighten with longing, and she lifted her hips to thrust into him. His hand trails down to her hip, his fingers continuing to caress the soft skin under her thick cotton of her uniform.. 

His fingers went to the drawstring of her pants, stumbling in his haste and desire to get the cord undone. She chuckles a little as he accidentally tightens the knot, swearing under his breath, before he manages to finally pull the cords free, the elasticated waistband now loose enough for him to comfortably slip his hand under. He draws it out, and Lolly is left to gasp and struggle to hold somewhat still as his fingers toy with her, gently sweeping across her belly button brushing lower into her soft curls and back - taking it as slowly as he can.  The thought pops into her head that it feels strange to be touched without feeling the skin-warmed metal or the delicate claws of a setting of one of his rings pressing against her skin - just his bare hands for once. It feels more charged in some way, raw. He grins at her when she issues a soft whine, and he stills her hand from pulling on his trousers. 

“Mmmhmmm, now, good things come to good lil girls who wait.”

“Oh god, El-vis. Please, touch me.” He chuckles, breathy and low. 

“Patience Lolly darling, waited all afternoon for you like this - just let me enjoy you, hm?” Her legs parted further almost entirely by themselves, and Olivia bit her lip at Elvis’ cocky, boyish smirk at her response. 

“Gonna be a good girl?”

“Mmmmhmmm.” 

She lay back, ceding him all control as her hands fell back over her head. His fingers pull on the white belt, releasing her top, revealing her pale, silky milk white breasts. She trembles at the sound of him sucking in air, grazing his knuckles over her belly to the bottom curve of her breast. Elvis pursed his lips and gently tugged at her left nipple, the subtle mix of pleasure and pain made her gasp, and she felt him twitch at his groin.

“Mmm, there she is, there’s my good baby.”

He leaned down to softly mouth over her other nipple, and the cool, wet feeling provoked another moan. All of her blood rushed to her core and her neck arched back. She hardly noticed how Elvis surreptitiously began to pull her pants off, the elasticated waistband of the gi slipping down easily, leaving her in little cotton panties. 

He doesn’t stop giving her nipple attention with his mouth, his hand still gently playing with the other, and Olivia can feel her pulse quickening, that slightly nauseating feeling that comes with being so rapidly turned on transforming into fluttering butterflies in her stomach as he shifts his lips to suck a love-bite on the velvety flesh of her breast. She meets his eyes, Elvis' gaze deepening as he pulls himself away to plant a soft, lazy kiss on her lips. It felt like she had needed him to kiss her all afternoon, and she couldn’t help herself. Once his mouth met hers, she greedily held him to her, pulling on his silk collar, just for a moment.

She giggled up into his mouth, feeling the distinct outline of an erection through his gi. She flipped her head back, looking at their reflection in the curved mirrors that lined the walls across from the bed.

Elvis’ was hunched over her, like a tiger over his prey. A tiger who was suddenly very tame, nipping at her neck. Tugging at his belt, she lets out a choked moan in surprise that he is totally nude underneath.

“Oh god, Elvisss - I.” 

Elvis has to look away at her gasp, and the hungry way she palms over his cock. Olivia finds her desire swell every time she is with him like this and gets to witness up close how shy he is in bed. She can feel him stiffen as he grins, and he cannot seem to stop the teasing way his eyebrow arches up in recognition of how his naked body, his jacket falling off of his shoulders, alone is enough to make her moan in pleasure. 

“Something you tryin’ to tell me, honey?” The laughter in his eyes tells her that he knows exactly what he’s doing to her - lowering his tone, quieting his voice until it's practically a deep, masculine, whisper. His hand trails down to run a single finger across the waistband of her panties, Olivia’s hips jolt as he toys with her - slipping further until he’s pressing the damp spot on her fabric. Her moan is stifled by his mouth, his tongue slipping into hers, and she is once again enveloped by him. The smell of the sweaty dojo that lingers along with his crisp aftershave, the warmth of his nose along her jaw, the sight of his chest hair above her. It takes every bit of focus that she has to move her hand over him again, touching him so that he can feel her desire.

But Elvis won’t be rushed, he takes his time, brushing over her clit through her underwear before finally tugging at the waist. She can tell from the way he waggles his eyebrows that he is enjoying this. Olivia should slap him for being so cheeky, but her arousal makes her lift her hips almost too eagerly as a giddy exhale escapes her throat. 

The cool, arctic air of Elvis’ bedroom is titillating on her bare skin, and she bucks up into his cupped hand, grinding into him and he lets out a sharp breath, almost a whistle at the way she slides against him, 

“Lordy, lordy lordy, like a caged alley cat, suddenly let out of its cage. Whatcha do with my good lil sorority gal, hmmm?”

“Uh-huh,” She wriggles, “Couldn’t - can’t help it, you, ah,” He slips his finger between the lips of her vulva, “something bout you, bout karate, makes me - ” she grinds into him again, another breathy giggle comes out when she meets his eye. “craazzzy.” 

“Huh, and here I thought you were bored, guess you were just playin’ it cool, huh?” He nudges her clit with his knuckle, “you like watchin’ me, lil girl?” 

She whines as he pulls himself away, tugging his jacket fully off, he hushes her, grinning, and leaning down to suck on her collarbone, just a teeny bit too high for her to cover. Olivia knows it will leave a hickey, and she’ll get a lecture from her house mother on lady-like behavior befitting a Chi Omega. But she doesn’t care, the way his lips are pressing into her and suckling, as his finger glides over her, around her, inside her, beckoning her to him like he beckoned his competitors to challenge him earlier. The full length of his soft, tapered fingers now slide back and forth along her clit and she rocks with them over the black satin sheets, chasing the electricity at their tips. She looks up into his eyes.

“Mhmmm. Watching you. But I liked it best - ” He plays it straight like he doesn’t know why she’s stopped talking, tilting his head at the way she cries out and gasps when his  fingers rub around her and she can’t stop the groan they summon. 

“Yesssss honey, you ok? What is that you like?”

Olivia shakes her head, her hips follow the measured, slow, movements of his hand inside her. Looking into his playful eyes, she can feel him fully hard against her stomach, and she can’t bear it much longer. In her past few times at Graceland she’d gotten used to the fact that he was nothing like the college boys she’d fooled around with in the past. Elvis was not a wham, bam, thank you ma’am lover. For him, the foreplay almost seemed as important, if not more so, and he seemed to enjoy pushing her. Right to the edge.

“I liked it when you worked one-on-one with me. I liked feeling you teach me.” She whispered, heart beating fast as she felt Elvis’ fingers still, while his left came up to cup her cheeks.

“Awww, baby, you like it when I teach you things? Honey -”  Elvis' voice dipped low into a sweet murmur as he leaned forward into her ear, and Olivia nodded, his hand guiding his penis to her entrance. “I’m jus getting started. Got all kinda moves I wanna show you.” 

He chuckled, bending into her neck as he laughed at his own corny lines. However, his momentary chuckle was swiftly replaced by a low growl as he thrust up inside her, and Olivia became incapable of replying. Snaking her arms over his shoulders, she tilted her hips to meet him, her heart pounding as he moved back deliberately, his mouth a terse, concentrated line, before they delved down to kiss her neck.

“You ok, honey?”

Olivia nodded her head, winding her hair through his fingers, the hot breath from his nostrils moistened her skin as he delved up into her once more, and she pushed back to let him know that she could take it, that she wanted it, that she liked it. 

“Uh uh, more than ok.” She whispered into his ear. “Been thinking about this all afternoon.”

Elvis hand swiped down to trail along the side of her rib cage, tenderly, enjoying the delicate feel of her soft skin, and then gripping her tighter as he plunged back into her, deeper, and more determined, encouraged by the succession of moans Olivia uttered in time with his hips. As if he were pounding them out of her in time with his own heavy panting gasps. 

She could no longer think, every move brought Olivia into the present and everything left her head until suddenly all she knows is the flare of Elvis’ nostrils over her, the silk of the sheets below her, and the reflection from the television sets in the ceiling above her that she calls out, babbling a succession of “oh - gods” out as Elvis’ increases his pressure, and the way he smiles at her praise and grins, leaves her breathless. His hips stutter a little, and his mouth hanging open, and she is consumed by the need to drink him in, and leans up to close the gap between them, capturing his mouth with hers and pulling him close with her arms entwined around his neck. Their movements become more erratic, desperate, unable to be close enough, completely absorbed in the moment, so much so that as they roll over once, then again, Olivia accidently hits her nose into Elvis' elbow.

He slows down, “You ok, baby?’

And she shakes her head, an urgency to her voice, “Mhmmm, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Her hands cup his face, and he chuckles, rocking back into her, then moaning out as she grinds against him. 

He nibbles at her cheek, mouthing at her sweat-slicked skin as his hands glide up her sides - his palm and fingers spread out wide and flat on her back, holding Olivia to him. She throws her head back, inviting him to her neck and chest and he complies, leaving little wet marks as he presses open-mouthed kisses down her collarbone to the top of her breast. She can feel the sweat from his forehead as he works his way down, one of his hands sliding over to tweak a nipple. It sends an immediate zing to her core, and she pushes her hips harder into him as her orgasm washes out through her body.

“El, Elvis, oh mercy me, oh good lord - “

He smiles, a cocky, self-satisfied grin, which is short lived, replaced by the contortions of his own climax, and his kisses to her neck become a chain of fervent, wet, sloppy lips, as he murmurs into her skin.

 “Oh Lo-Lolly, my lil Lolly, bout to loose ma damn mind.” His voice wavered, and his hips start to stutter, and he chants her name as he pulsates into her, his forehead slumping into her breasts as they hold each other. 

Olivia looks up at the blurry reflection of his body over her in the blank television above. She blinked and let the cozy, warm afterglow of lovemaking over take her, leaning into his chest as he pants. The way his chest lifts her up and down, the way his heart is beating like a drum through his rib cage into her ear, the calm way he laughs as he grabs the nearest thing he can, the satin-lined karate uniform top, to wipe himself and throw it across the room, is all so endearing and comforting that it makes her tighten her embrace. She wishes she could just stay like this forever. She smiles into his hand, as his fingers trail down her cheek.

“You really are a beautiful girl, Lolly. Don’t know what I’d do if anythin’ ever happened to you.” 

The intense, sentimental look on Elvis’ face wasn’t lost on Olivia, in part, because it was so romantic, and so very different from the closed lipped boys back at Ole Miss. She could see some of her friends being intimidated by grand gestures, but Olivia longed for this, his open, candid way of just sharing whatever emotions he was feeling had been part of the charm that induced her to drop whatever she was doing, even ditch her classes, and visit whenever Elvis called and invited her to Graceland for a week.

When he looked at her like this, so earnestly sharing his sweet confession, it made Olivia want to pull him into her and kiss him fiercely, desperately showing him how much it meant to hear him care for her this way. 

“You could, you could just keep me by your side always.”

Elvis let his lips brush over hers. “Wish I could, sweetheart, keep this fine ass safe and sound.” 

There it is, a reminder that she is leaving tomorrow, and his plane will be flying her back to Oxford, back to school, back to her boring, mundane life and away from these arms. The reminder that he has other girls to spend time with and other promises to keep. She pushes the thought away, and puts a smile on her face, she doesn’t want to lose this moment or let her disappointment get to her. As if reading her mind, Elvis distracts her soon enough by grabbing her waist, and working his hand down to gently cup her bottom, massaging his fingers around the bottom of her cheeks and grinning at her gasp. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. Finest lil tail in all a Memphis.”

“Stop.”

The tone of her voice encouraged Elvis to squeeze her butt harder, before returning to rub her shoulder.

“S’ok baby, I’ll sleep better knowing you have some basic defense moves now to pro-tect ya self. T’weren’t half bad.”

Olivia runs her fingers through his chest hair, then sits up to look down at him.

“Half bad? Elvis Presley,” she effected a grand, dame accent.  “I do de - clare, I think you forgot that I threw you, Twice.”

He shakes his head.

“Hhhh, so you think that makes you a baaadd mumbo jumbo, huh?”

She nods, giggling as he pulls her back to him. 

“Uhh-huh, what was it you called the guy, the one attacking all these women?” She puts on his accent and tone, deepening her voice to imitate him, “That guy ain’t just bad, he’s double-bad.” She speaks like herself again, “Guess that’s me now. Double-bad. Can take down a karate master.” She strokes his arm, poking him with one manicured finger to emphasize the syllables. He shakes his head, 

“Just you wait. I just let you so you’d get the technique down. Soon as I can walk again, we’re gonna have another lesson here. Better believe.”

Olivia fixes him with a teasing glare.

“Huh, well get ready, baby, cuz you're the one who’s gonna get a lesson.”

“That right?”

“Mhmmm. And a mouth full a humble pie.”

Her shrieks and his laughter echo through the room as they roll back and forth in a contest of wills, trying to pin each other down until they accidentally roll off the bed, and erupt into another fit of laughter with Olivia, once more, on top of Elvis. 

“See, that’s the third time. Admit it, I threw you, fair and square.”

He gazes up at her, his thumbs rove her belly from her waist, where they hold her.

“Ok, honey, you threw me. Threw me good.”

taglist: @lookingforrainbows @literally-just-elvis-fics @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll  @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis @dkayfixates

[nqctar]

Hi! Just found your blog and I love it so much! Would you be willing to write something for cg! Shotaro? I haven't seen anything and I feel like he would just be so sweet as a cg

OH ABSOLUTELY!!

♡ shotaro as your cg!

cg! osaki shotaro x female!little reader

pairings: cg! osaki shotaro x f!reader. genre: sfw age regression, fluff. warnings: no major warnings apply.

大崎将太郎 / osaki shotaro ★

dni: if you sexualize little space.

as a cg shotaro is sooo silly

he's always trying to make you laugh

& it works!!

you know how cg!wonbin takes playing doctor too seriously?

shotaro does the same thing!

you two are playing restaurant & shotaro is complaining the entire time

"this service is too slow." "my food is so cold!" "waitress, i demand more green tea!"

so at some point you stomp back over to him & yell "I QUIT!" & he just sits there like :o

when you ask him a question while you're little you always go

"umm tarotaro?"

so now when he asks you a question he basically does the same!

"umm baby?"

i feel like you guys would go to see animals a lot! like specifically aquariums. he'd take you to any aquarium he could find and you'd spend hours looking and pointing at everything

"umm tarotaro, what is that thing called?"

"that's an octopus, baby!"

"will it eat me?"

"yes! only if you keep leaving your lego out for me to step on."

between him and cg!anton idk who loves cuddling more.

will sometimes pretend to get off the phone with an octopus and be like

"he said if you don't cuddle me right now, he's gonna eat us both!"

so you basically dive on top of him because no way!!!

ok one time you snuck out of bed to eat cookies at 3 am

& you thought you were being quiet but shotaro caught you!

but instead of being mad he was just like

"why aren't you sharing :("

if there's something you collect besides stuffies or dollies, shotaro would buy you soo many to help you. like if you collected sonny angels!

he'd buy you a ton and then put them in a cute basket and hand it to you with the biggest :D smile ever

i think he'd like playing hide and seek with you!

you'd be hiding behind a curtain with your feet sticking out thinking he toooootally can't see you right now

& he pretends he doesn't!!

"where is my baby? did the octopus get her??" while you try and stop giggling so loud

when shotaro hides though, it's almost like he disappears into thin air

one time you looked for him for what felt like 30 minutes

when you found him he was in a closet, watching netflix on his phone.

he looked up at you slowly and just went "ummm.." while you pouted

but he made it up to you by giving you lots of kisses & letting you have extra sweets!

when it's bedtime sometimes he'll build a fort in the living room for you both to sleep in

made the mistake of putting an angry octopus stuffie in it though.

you clung to him the entire night because of that!

"i don't want it to get me, taro!!"

holds you to his chest the entire night, whispering "i love you" and "you're so cute, baby."

cg!taro is soooo <3333

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part Five]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler, Red West, Sonny West, Jerry Schilling Colonel Tom Parker, Minnie Presley, Vernon Presley, Dee Presley, Joanie Esposito, Joe Esposito, Pat West

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5041

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I've had a shit few weeks but we're carrying on and thank god cos our Boys have finally met <3

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

‘Are you ready?’ Austin asked, swapping the receiver of the phone to his other ear so that he didn’t miss her answer.

‘I think so,’ Lori replied quietly

‘It can't be think, Lori. It’s got to be a yes or no,’ he said trying to keep the frustration out of his voice but remain firm. Because it had to be yes or no, preferably yes. Otherwise he'd gone to bat for nothing. He had pissed off his captain and sheriff and made a stink amongst the precinct for nothing. He’d be the new guy swooping in from California and ruining the delicate Memphian ecosystem of bribes and looking the other way. Even the district attorney, who had backed him, had done so on the promise of bringing down the entire operation. He wasn’t bothered about Presley or Tony for that matter. He wanted to be the one to oust key players from the city’s underbelly. For morality or glory Austin didn’t know but it was the reason he kept himself from sounding too agitated. If they were going to bring down anything they needed her. She had even been the one to point out that they had cause to arrest Presley as he was sure to have a ten card from previous, something Austin hadn’t even considered.

‘No, I am,’ she said, her breath a little shaky which didn’t fill him with confidence but he accepted her words nonetheless. It wasn’t as though he had a choice not to. He could hear her shift, hesitance in her breathing that insinuated she was going to ask him something and so he waited for it, ‘do you know when?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he replied, ‘early morning. The DA wants to make sure no news gets out, that they don’t get to alert one another, so we’re hitting every house at once.’

‘How many?’ she asked quietly.

‘Just the names you gave me,’ he said. It had felt odd to have followed her to a chapel of rest but getting a hold of her without someone watching he was fast learning was an art. Even having her on the phone had taken a handful of calls until she and she alone had picked up. Fortunately no one in the Presley enterprise seemed keen to accompany her in staring at a closed casket. There had been no service and no attendees other than him and her which had been fortunate for him even if it had made him feel a little dirty.

‘Right,’ she muttered, ‘are you coming?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like you’ll arrest him?’ she asked

‘Yes it’s my case,’ he replied, his frustration growing at the hitch in her breathing, ‘is that a problem?’

‘No,’ she said quietly though her tone was not reassuring furthering his nerves which prompted him to ask, ‘if you don’t think you can act-’

‘Honey I’ve been acting my entire life,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll be ready.’

✵✵✵

Lori didn’t sleep most of that night. She didn’t do much but potter around her bedroom fretting. In fact she only stopped when she heard the rumble of a car pulling into the driveway signalling that Elvis was home. At that she’d leapt into bed and turned the light off, turning herself to face the wall as she listened to him stumble in and strip off his clothes before he clambered into bed. Fortunately he had fallen asleep quickly, far away on the other side of the bed which meant she wasn’t forced to face him. Instead she spent her night watching him. He looked younger when asleep, more innocent. That was when the uncertainty had crept back in. When Austin had asked her if she was ready she had thought she was but looking at him like that made her doubt herself.

She knew it was selfish. That her only doubts were on her own behalf but she couldn’t help but feel them. Those doubts had been the soundtrack she had fallen asleep to and they were interrupted as she was brought back to the realm of consciousness by a dull thud, the padded door of her bedroom hitting the wall at a pace.

‘Boss! Boss you gotta get up!’ she heard Charlie’s voice call before she came to and when she did he was already pulling clothes out of their closet ready for Elvis who had yet to stir.

‘Elvis,’ she said groggily, a limp hand shaking his shoulder as she tried her best to rouse him, ‘Elvis wake up.’

‘Boss you gotta come quick,’ Charlie said, throwing an outfit on the bed as he too tried to shake her husband awake. He came to the moment Charlie touched him.

‘What is it?’ he asked crankily.

‘Cops,’ Charlie said, ‘they’re askin’ to come in. Say they’ve got a warrant or something.

‘What?’ Lori gasped.

‘What are you talkin’ about?’ Elvis said, forcing himself up in bed quickly and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

‘They want you and they’re not takin’ no for an answer,’ Charlie said, offering the clothing to Elvis who started to dress without care his friend was in the room.

‘What do you mean?’ Lori asked but her question was ignored by both men.

‘Go and tell ‘em I’ll be down in a minute,’ Elvis said, rubbing his tired face as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on. As Charlie nodded and scurried out of sight Lori moved a little closer, keeping her tone as worried as possible as she asked, ‘El what’s happening?’

‘How the fuck do I know?’ Elvis grunted as he slipped on his pants, donning a pale blue shirt over his tanned torso a moment later. At that she fell quiet fearing too much questioning would cause too much scrutiny on her end.

Yet she couldn’t help but watch him. He was clearly disgruntled by the whole thing. His jaw was set and his gorgeous blue eyes though tired burned bright with indignation. A sentiment that was confirmed as they left the bedroom. She could hear people downstairs, worried chatter carrying up from kitchen stairs and the muttering of men in her hallway. But he didn’t turn the corner, he lingered on the landing, almost forcing her to walk into the back of him, before he straightened his shirt and then sauntered down the stairs without a care in the world. Lori followed behind in trepidation.

When they got down there Austin was standing on their front stoop, in amongst a gang of officers who seemed wholly unenthused to be there. In fact the only one who didn’t seem entirely put out was his fellow plain clothed officer who nudged him as he noted Elvis stride into view. Lori kept close behind, smiling weakly as Charlie threw her a reassuring smile and trying to ignore how Elvis’ grandma’s eyes bore into the back of her skull from her chair in the living room as she watched on.

As they got to the front step the chattering amongst the officers grew quiet, all eyes on them as Elvis surveyed the party before he said, ‘someone wanna tell me what the fuck’s goin on?

‘Mr Presley?’ Austin asked, his eyes flitting to Lori behind him for half a second.

‘Yeah,’ Elvis grunted.

‘We’re here to serve a warrant,’ Austin said as he produced a stack of papers from his suit jacket and handed them across where Elvis could snatch them out of his hand. He read quickly, his eyes scanning the pages before they narrowed and he asked, ‘in relation to a murder?’

‘Yes,’ Austin replied.

‘The fuck this have to do with me?’

‘Well that’s what we’d like to ask you about,’ Austin’s partner said.

‘Down at the station,’ Austin added. Lori kept her eyes trained on her husband watching as his jaw clenched in indignation.

‘I already told you I don’t know nuthin’ about that,’ Elvis said.

‘Yeah well we have new evidence that states otherwise,’ Astin said, with a tight smile, ‘so if you’d come with us. These boys can get to serving their warrant.’

‘What evidence?’ Elvis spat.

‘Like I said we can talk about it down at the station,’ Austin replied.

‘Like hell,’ Elvis baulked throwing the warrant so that it hit Austin square in the chest, fluttering to the floor onto white concrete. Austin sighed and stepped forward. He was looking up at Elvis, the step to the portico meaning they were on uneven footing but he was standing tall with a look of warning mirth on his face as he said, ‘that’s not a request so unless you want cuffing you need to come with us.’

Elvis narrowed his eyes. Everyone was watching him which admittedly wasn’t a new phenomenon but he normally didn’t care what those around him saw. Now however he seemed aware that he needed to play this carefully and though his words sounded like a consent there was an air of contempt woven through his demeanour as he turned away and looked to Charlie as he said, ‘get me jacket will ya.’

‘Elvis what do we do?’ Lori asked as he moved inside the hall checking his appearance in the mirror as if he was going out for a leisurely stroll and not being arrested. Austin pulled back and loitered with his partner who was tucking the dropped warrant back in his pocket.

‘Call the colonel,’ Elvis said, quaffing his hair before he took the jacket from Charlie who had now reappeared. He continued as he slipped it on, ‘call daddy and tell ‘em what happened.’

‘Right, okay the colonel,’ Lori said, watching as he walked out onto the front stoop ready to move along. Lori came to stand at the door unsure of how to part from him. A kiss felt too familiar especially in the presence of so many officers and yet not to do so felt off. Everything felt wrong which was no surprise given that her stomach had been doing somersaults since the moment her eyes had snapped open.

‘Tell ‘em not to worry,’ he said, glancing at Austin and a uniformed officer who were striding out ahead of him to a car sitting by the bottom of the steps before leaning in to press a kiss on her cheek. She should’ve known an audience wouldn't deter Elvis Presley from showing especially considering he didn’t sound at all worried as he said, ‘I’ll be home before breakfast. You’ll see.’

And then he was gone. Lori watched as he walked to the car and climbed through the door being held open for him which closed with a squeak and a slam. He was in shadow in the back seat so she couldn’t see him properly but nevertheless she watched as the car drove down the winding drive before embarking onto the street.

When she moved from the door the uniformed officers entered and by the time she’d left the hall they were already going through cabinets and cupboards with no rhyme or reason. Her belongings spilled from drawers onto carpets and tables. Her couch cushions littered the floor around Grandma Dodger. Gladys’ finest China clinked as it was pushed around the cupboard without care. As she wandered through to the kitchen she tried to remind herself she had asked for this. She had tossed the grenade herself and that she couldn’t be reluctant for things to feel a little messy. Messy would prevail in justice for Tony. Punishing Elvis would punish her in return which was what she deserved. Even if she was feeling all out of sorts because of it. In a way she supposed that was better, if she’d been cool and collected Elvis would’ve sniffed her out she was sure of it. At least a nervous mess she was playing the game.

Finally she made it to the kitchen, unhooking the receiver of the phone from the latch as the staff whispered from a huddle in the corner as they tried to stay out of the way of the officers. However she didn’t get very far in dialling before she heard her name called and swivelled around to find the other plainclothes officer, what she suspected to be Austin’s partner watching her intently.

‘Yes?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

‘What's this?’ he asked, gesturing to the TV unit on the kitchen worktop that displayed a picture of the gate.

‘Our security system,’ she said.

‘Is it just on the gate?’ he asked just as Charlie came in looking harried.

‘Yep,’ she said, her throat dry and sticking with now two pairs of eyes on her.

‘And it’s on twenty-four hours a day?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, we don’t shut it off,’ she confirmed.

‘Does it record?’ he asked.

‘Uh, yeah,’ she said, ‘I think so.’

‘Great thanks,’ he said, donning his glasses as he moved to inspect the bulky contraption. Lori turned to restart her phone call, the dial tone now missing given her prolonged absence but as she did she felt a hand on her elbow and a set of lips by the shell of her ear as Charlie whispered, ‘what did you tell him that for?’ before moving past her towards his room.

Lori watched him go, glancing at the detective who was still scrutinising the camera system. It looked as though her acting wasn’t the only thing that was going to need to withstand scrutiny.

✵✵✵

Elvis Presley was not a patient man. He never had been, being an only child and the apple of his mother’s eye hadn’t helped him with his temperament, but notoriety and twenty or so years of bossing everyone around had meant he hadn’t got used to waiting around. He certainly was not used to being given as little information as possible other than being read his rights before he was stuffed into an interview room on his own. Not even his lawyer, a nervous, sweaty man called Hank, arriving had hurried the process up. Which was why he was still sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair, glaring at an older detective as his lawyer flicked through a thin file and tried to ignore the way Elvis’ leg rattled against his as it bounced against the tile floor.

He only broke his gaze as the door unlatched, the blonde detective, the one who’d been stirring the pot since day dot, sauntered in, case file in hand. Elvis watched as he closed the door quietly and unable to stop the irritation from bubbling inside him he found a snarky, ‘by all means take your damn time,’ fall from his lips without warning.

Austin threw him a glance but didn’t respond, electing to remain silent as he dropped into the seat opposite. Because he knew Elvis Presley wasn’t a patient man. No man who had half of Memphis cower to his every want and whim could possibly be patient. He was too well catered to and more importantly too used to everyone bending over backwards to accommodate him, it was why he’d left him in here for the longest time. It was why he’d interviewed all his cronies first. It was why he didn’t say anything as he got settled, allowing the other man to shift in his seat as he muttered, ‘ain’t bad enough you hauled my ass down here on some bullshit charge.’

Again Austin ignored him, gesturing for his partner to flip the switch on the large tape player in between both parties which he did, shifting awkwardly as he realised Austin was allowing him some input. Of course John did not know his partner that well but he’d been in enough interview rooms to know the dynamic his colleague was aiming for. And so he cleared his throat and prepared his most polite tone as he said, ‘interview commenced at nine fifteen am on June twelfth. Detectives Butler and Melling present along with the appropriate counsel. Sir, could you please state and spell your name for the record?’

John was watching Elvis as he spoke, everyone was, but the man’s gaze remained locked on Austin, his blue eyes narrowed and a distinct curl on his lip in contempt even though it wasn’t him asking. Austin didn’t react.

‘Uh, Mr Presley,’ John said, clearing his throat again awkwardly when he failed to answer, ‘could you please-’

‘Elvis Presley,’ Elvis replied, his eyes still on Austin, ‘E-L-V-I-S P-R-E-S-L-E-Y.’

‘Thank you,’ John replied, an awkward but thankful smile on his lips that Austin resisted the urge to roll his eyes to. It hadn’t been easy to get everyone on board and though John had backed him but less out of the belief Austin had a good case and more out of some archaic duty to support his partner when he was under fire. Still it hadn't meant he was entirely on board and even he wasn't immune to trying to make Elvis Presley feel comfortable.

‘Now you gonna tell me why the hell you dragged my ass down here?’ Elvis challenged, not bothering to respond to the officer who had been speaking to him. There wasn’t much point, it wasn’t as if he’d stopped staring at Austin throughout the entire conversation.

‘I assumed that was clear in the warrant you were served,’ Austin said. Elvis’ glare deepened and his jaw tightened at the whiff of snark but Austin merely smiled and said, ‘but we can get to it anyway.’

Elvis watched as he shifted in his seat, opening up a manila folder and scanning through it as he produced a pen from his pocket. He moved slow, as if he was doing paperwork at his desk and not interrogating a suspect and Elvis watched him angrily waiting for him to speak.

‘Can you tell me where you were on May thirtieth?’ he said once he’d finally settled himself.

‘Ain’t I already told you?’ Elvis sneered.

‘I’m asking again,’ Austin said, tight but firm.

‘That dead kid ain’t nuthin’ to do with Kings,’ Elvis sneered.

‘That’s not what I asked,’ Austin replied, again his tone teetering on the edge of snark. Elvis glared at him but glanced towards his lawyer who had remained quiet through the entire thing, no doubt wanting Elvis to take charge before he made any decisions as everyone else seemed to do.

‘If you could provide some information that’s probably for the best,’ Hank muttered into Elvis’ ear, making his jaw tighten further.

‘At home,’ he said, his voice tight and low.

‘All day?’ Austin asked.

‘I went to the club,’ Elvis said.

‘That’s Kings night club, correct?’ Austin said.

‘Yes,’ Elvis replied, his tone dripping with resentment at having every little detail pulled from him. His irritation was also mounting at the way the detective was scribbling notes every time he spoke as though his word wasn’t trustworthy enough. It may have been a long time since anyone didn’t bend to his whim but it had been even longer since someone had failed to take his word as gospel.

‘And what time was that?’ Austin asked.

‘About eight, eight thirty,’ Elvis replied.

‘What did you do when you got there?’ Austin probed.

‘What I always do,’ Elvis said, sighing as Austin said nothing but raised an eyebrow, ‘it was a Friday right? So I watched the new acts, had some drinks and then went into my office to do some paperwork and calls.’

‘And someone can verify that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Just about everyone who was in the damn club,’ Elvis snapped, heaving a sigh as Austin merely looked at him as if waiting for specifics, ‘Sam, Sam Thomspon, my bartender. He was on that night so I guess he can verify I was there.’

‘What time did you leave?’ Austin said, jotting another note on his piece of paper.

‘About one am,’ Elvis said.

‘Alone?’ Austin challenged.

‘No,’ Elvis said with contempt, ‘I have drivers. And bodyguards.’

‘And their names?’ Austin asked.

‘Haven't you already spoken to my entire staff?’ Elvis scoffed, rolling his eyes as Austin failed to bite once more, ‘Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West.’

‘And they left with you?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Where did you go?’ Austin asked.

‘Home,’ Elvis replied, his eyes flicking to the pen that had stalled, curious as to why his answer was not immediately being jotted down in the file in front like all the others.

‘You didn’t drop them off first?’ he asked. Elvis scoffed, ‘they wouldn't be good bodyguards if they left me on my own now would they.’

‘Guess not,’ Austin smiled, with a glint in his eye that Elvis didn’t care for. Neither was the way he added another layer of suspicion as he asked, ‘and they’ll verify this?’

‘Yes,’ Elvis grunted.

Austin nodded, flicking through his file for a second before he looked at his colleague, the lawyer and then back at Elvis as if he was checking they were all listening before he started, whatever question he wanted to ask appearing significant though Elvis didn’t know why as it was only, ‘how long did it take you?’

‘What?’ Elvis asked. The questions had been trivial enough but this seemed to border on the edge of banality. Like he wanted Elvis to spell every single detail out for him. He could tell by the accent that this Butler guy was not a native Memphian and so he might not know the streets well enough to guess but he was getting sick of having to hold the guy’s hand through this entire process. Whenever he’d dealt with Memphis’ boys in blue before it had never been this formal. Over the years there’d been cursory visits but it was normally uniforms who took his word at face value. Anything else was usually dealt with by the Colonel who normally spared him facing the inside of a police station unless it was being angled as a publicity stunt. Now he was starting to sweat, beads of perspiration forming between his shirt and his hairline as piercing blue eyes watched him.

‘That time of night it's got to be ten, fifteen minutes max to get from the club to your house right?’ Austin asked.

‘I guess,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his wariness from his tone.

‘But you left the club at one ten am, we got that from your CCTV, yet your gate camera only clocked you getting back home at two fifty-three am. Where were you for an hour and forty-three minutes?’ Austin asked, his eyes set on Elvis’ face. But it wasn’t just him watching him. Everyone was and he suddenly realised this was not what he’d thought it was. He wasn’t holding this guy’s hand; this guy was laying the foundations to trip Elvis up.

He didn’t know why he’d been so stupid. Annoyed sure but that was because trouble never usually hung around this long. Problems in Elvis Presley's world were dealt with the moment they raised their head. Sure people asked questions but they usually knew it wasn’t worth digging any deeper than the surface level. Of course he had heard this Butler guy had been digging but he had figured it was just because he was too green to know better. Too ambitious, he’d had lower-level guys in the club like it before. They just needed to be put in their place. Now it was too late because he’d got him boxed into a corner. And both of them knew it.

It was why he didn’t probe. He just sat there, allowing the silence to fester until one of them got uncomfortable enough to speak. Only it was Elvis’ lawyer who hesitated first, mumbling to his client, ‘if you could explain that it’d help.’

Elvis cleared his throat and sniffed, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance as he shrugged and said, ‘we went for burgers.’

‘Where?’ Austin asked pointedly.

‘Louie’s.’

‘And your friends, sorry bodyguards, will confirm that?’ Austin asked.

‘Yes,’ Elvis said.

‘Hmm,’ Austin said dismissively and though he was trying to remain cool Elvis couldn’t help but bite, grunting a ‘what?’ before he could stop himself.

‘Nothing,’ Austin said casually, ‘it's just I don’t see how you had the time.’

‘An hour is plenty of time to get a burger,’ Hank the lawyer protested.

‘Maybe but it's not enough time when you’re across town murdering someone,’ Ausitn challenged.

‘You think I murdered the kid?’ Elvis scoffed.

‘I’m sure you did,’ Austin said, leaning forward in his seat, ‘in fact I think you saw Tony leave his shift at one and you followed him home. Now admittedly he stopped for a pizza so whether you headed back to his place and waited or sat outside the pizza parlour I’m not sure but I’m sure you showed up at his apartment. And when you knocked on the door and he opened it and saw his boss, well, who wouldn’t invite them in. He even gave you a drink.’

‘Speculation,’ Hank protested.

‘Not exactly,’ Austin corrected, ‘you see we have your fingerprints on a half-drunk glass of scotch in Tony's apartment and considering it wasn’t moved it’s safe to assume it was being used just before he died.’

Again the silence festered, a satisfied Austin not bothering to prod as the blows landed better than he’d anticipated. But John must’ve been feeling uncomfortable which prompted him to ask, ‘can you explain that?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t clean his glasses very often,’ Elvis said.

‘So you were there at some point?’ Austin challenged, suppressing a smirk at the irritated grunt Elvis made, ‘or am I to believe that he left two glasses of whiskey on the side for what a week? A month? That he never touched or moved them leaving your prints perfectly unsmudged? The same way I’m supposed to believe that he left his freshly bought pizza on the side or left his mail unopened. No, I think the two of you had a drink and a conversation and then for some reason you blew his brains out, which is crazy considering you didn’t even know the kid ten minutes ago.’

Elvis said nothing.

‘So come on, what happened?’ Austin probed. Elvis glared at him but Austin didn’t relent. He stared back, challenging him to say something, anything though he didn’t see what he could say that wouldn’t muddy his defence even more. After a moment Elvis muttered, ‘no comment.’

‘Oh come on!’ Austin laughed, ‘you’ve been happy to run your mouth up to now what’s the matter? Afraid you’re going to tell the truth for once? Or are you going to tell me that your prints being in the apartment of a dead guy you don’t know is all coincidence?’

Elvis stayed silent.

‘Just like you leaving right after him must be. Just like your alibi not matching all your little friends is,’ Austin smirked, leaning closer as Elvis’ gaze snapped up at the mention of an alibi. Of course he’d known that all this mounted to an alibi but he hadn't anticipated he’d be one step ahead, ‘you know we asked your pals where you were that night. And they confirmed you left together and that you went straight home. No burgers. No stopping. No nothing. Is that coincidence too?’

The room was deathly quiet and all of a sudden Elvis was feeling rueful he was such an impatient man. He hated that everyone tried to bend to his will or that no one felt as though they could make decisions for him. If he wasn't maybe they would have found a lawyer who wasn’t too scared to jump in and fix this mess. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have friends so eager to defend him in their haste they’d landed him in hot water. If he wasn’t maybe he wouldn’t have been so relaxed about this whole thing being pushed under the carpet. He wouldn’t have underestimated this detective. He wasn’t fool enough to think that the whole justice system would bend to the will of the king of Memphis but it had been so long he had become acclimatised to expecting it.

And this guy was a force to be reckoned with. No one had spoken but he kept pushing as if he could niggle something out of the other man if he kept needling, ‘let me guess it’s a coincidence the type of gun used was the same make and model of one you own.’

‘Have you got the gun?’ his lawyer asked, finally making some traction in ‘defence’.

‘No,’ Detective Melling admitted, ‘we don’t…the gun box at your house was empty.’’

‘Then I don’t see how that incriminates my client,’ Hank replied.

‘You don’t think it’s odd that the week we come looking around your clients house for a gun he owns is the same week said gun up and vanishes from your clients possession,’ Austin challenged.

‘I own a lot of guns,’ Elvis said, trying to keep his voice confident though it lacked conviction.

‘And?’ Austin asked, ‘let me guess someone else used the type of gun you have and shot a guy you don’t know after you'd been in his apartment? That sound plausible to you?’

‘I think you’ve got scraps of evidence and you’re adding them together hoping for a good story,’ Elvis spat.

‘Elvis,’ Hank warned.

‘Scraps?’ Austin rebuffed, ‘we’ve got proof you were there, the last one to see him, and he was shot with a gun just like one you own which coincidentally is missing now. Not to mention how you’ve tried to throw off the scent by being cagey as hell and yet you still haven’t managed to coordinate a decent alibi. That’s more than a good story.

‘Oh yeah and what’s the reason?’ Elvis growled, leaning forward in his seat threateningly though Austin matched him, their faces not so far apart as the tension rose, ‘why would I kill some punk kid who works for me?’

‘You tell me why you wouldn’t.’

They remained looking at one another, the ire rolling off them both until finally Austin sloped back in his chair as he looked to John awaiting him to do the rest. His partner sighed and looked to Elvis, ‘Elvis Presley I am charging you with the murder of Anthony Bowen…’

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002@sania562@caitlin1996@literally-just-elvis-fics@notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Viva la Revolución

Ship: Suspenders & Pens

A/N: These kids are gonna make Rafa go even grayer

Rafael and Nic sat expectantly on the couch, waiting for the twins. They told their parents they had something they wanted to talk about, and neither had the faintest idea why. Finally the twins came bounding down the stairs, standing in front of the fireplace. They both had small stacks of notecards in their hands.

“Mami, Papi, thank you for coming,” began Lina.

“As you know, we don’t ask for much,” Beth added. “But we’ve had a meeting and made a joint decision for our birthday.”

“Oh?” Nic raised a brow as she and Rafael exchanged a look. “What is this decision?”

“We would like a tv in our room as an early birthday present,” Lina explained.

“And we have a list of reasons why we believe we deserve one,” Beth told them. “Reason one: Because it would be really cool.”

“Reason two: Less fighting over the tv before bed,” Lina added.

“Reason three: we–”

“You’re not getting a tv in your bedroom,” Rafael told them.

The twins looked at each in shock before looking back at their parents. “Why not?” they asked in unison.

“Because you’re nine,” Rafael began.

“We’ll be ten in two months!” Beth argued.

“And,” he added, “it’s hard enough to get you both to do your homework. You don’t need a distraction in your room.”

“Eso no es justo!” Lina exclaimed.

“You’re not getting a tv in your room until you’re in middle school. End of discussion,” Rafael said. “Now go get ready for bed.”

The twins huffed angrily, stomping towards the staircase and up the stairs to their room. They grumbled to each other in twin-lish, their own made up language, and Nic sighed as she watched them go.

“We could have least heard them out,” she said to her husband.

“I didn’t have a tv in my room growing up.” Rafael stood up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. “They can wait a few years.”

Lina and Beth were still upset in the morning, practically giving their father the silent treatment. Their Aunt Abby picked them up for the day to take the twins to a new bookshop that opened in Queens. But secretly they were plotting, and that evening when everyone was winding down for the night, the twins marched into their parents’ bedroom. Nic had just finished brushing her teeth when they entered, and Rafael paused the show they were watching. Beth confidently held out a piece of paper to their father who took it in confusion. Nic walked over to her husband, glancing down at the paper in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked the twins.

“Ten signatures for our petition,” Lina explained simply.

“Petition?” Rafael asked in disbelief. They nodded. “Petition for what?”

“To get us a tv in our room,” she said.

Beth crossed her arms. “We have the signed support from Aunt Abby, Uncle Sonny, Aunt Bella and Uncle Tommy, Uncle Eddie—”

“—Aunt Liv, Uncle Fin, Miss Carmen, Mr. McCoy–” Lina added.

“You got a signature from my boss?!” Rafael shrieked, looking at the paper and recognizing the signature from the District Attorney. “How?” He looked at his daughters, and Nic bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Uncle Sonny introduced us. We’re very persuasive,” they said in unison, smiling at their father. If he hadn’t seen them do that their entire lives he would be freaked out.

“But we got the most important signature,” Beth told him, pointing at the list.

“Abuelita,” they both said.

Rafael stared at his mother’s name at the bottom of the list. She always spoiled the twins. He shook his head as he looked up at them. “This changes nothing. The answer is still no.”

The twins’ eyes hardened to a glare. “Esto es guerra, Papi,” they told him before walking out of the bedroom.

Nic looked down at her husband in amusement. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve started.”

He scoffed. “They’re nine, and there’s two of them. How much trouble can they be?”

She patted his shoulder. “They’re also your daughters.” She walked back into the bathroom as Rafael looked back down at the petition.

The next morning was oddly quiet as Rafael and Nic woke up. Mariana and Freddie weren’t there to wake them up like usual, and for a moment Nic was worried they were sick. But neither were in their rooms, and as she went to check and see if the twins knew the whereabouts of their younger siblings, she realized they weren’t in their room either. With furrowed brows, they headed downstairs to the living room. It was there they saw the coffee table moved to the side and all four of their children sitting on the floor in front of the couch.

“What’s this?” Nic asked as she walked over to them.

“We’re exercising our right to protest,” Beth explained.

Her twin nodded in agreement. “We’re standing up against an oppressive authority.”

Rafael’s mouth fell open as his wife let out a laugh. “When I told you to use your rights I meant when you dealt with a dictator at school or the government, not me!”

“This is something that will benefit all of us,” Lina said, gesturing to Freddie and Mariana next to her. “And we’re not moving until you give in to our demands.”

“Viva la Revolución!” Freddie shouted.

“Viva la Revolución!” The twins and Mariana repeated.

Wide eyed Rafael looked at his wife, but Nic threw her hands up. “Hey, they’re protesting you, not me.” She bent down to look at her children, amusement evident on her face. “Would the revolution like to have breakfast down here?”

“Yes, please, Mami,” Beth replied, nodding.

Nic chuckled. “How about churro waffles?”

“With chocolate sauce!” Freddie requested excitedly.

“Coming right up.” Nic stood up and walked past her husband, patting his chest. “Good luck,” she whispered to him.

The kids sat there all day, opting to have all of their meals there. Rafael was surprised to find Freddie and Mariana so strong in their resolve, and it scared him for the years to come. Already the kids were proving to be a force to be reckoned with. Even when dinner arrived they didn’t budge.

“Alright, this has gone on all day. Come to the table and have dinner,” Rafael told them, arms folded. They didn’t move, Lina and Beth glaring up at him with determination in their eyes. “If you come to the table you can have ice cream after dinner,” he bribed.

Mariana and Freddie looked at each other then to the twins. “I want ice cream,” Mariana whispered.

“Stay strong,” Lina told them.

“Qué haría Dora?” Beth asked her little sister.

A look of intensity came over Mariana at the mention of her animated hero. “Mantener mi posición.”

The siblings nodded at each other before looking up at their dad.

“Comemos aquí abajo,” Beth replied to him.

He sighed heavily, marching into the kitchen where his wife was plating dinner. “Not even ice cream will get them up. What the hell do we do?”

“Give in?” Nic suggested, looking at him. “They’re stubborn like you are. I doubt they’ll move any time soon. And what harm would a tv do? We could always put a parental lock on it.”

“When the twins were born we agreed that any children we have would be allowed to have a tv once they were in middle school,” he reminded her.

“That was before they inherited your stubbornness.” She pointed the spatula at him. “Face it, Rafa. The kids have you beat.”

“Us. We’re supposed to be holding a united front.”

“For things like curfew and dating. In the grand scheme of things a tv is so… trivial.”

After dinner ended they still wouldn’t move. Rafael was close to admitting defeat, and he still wasn’t sure if he was scared or proud of his children.

“You know what? You talk some sense into them since they’re so much like me,” he told Nic. “I’m taking a shower.” He headed up the stairs.

“Have you gotten them up yet?” he asked as he walked down the stairs. He looked over to the couch and his mouth dropped open. Nic was sitting with them now. “What happened?” Rafael walked over to them.

“They really are very persuasive,” Nic told him as she sat beside Beth. “And honestly, I always wanted a tv in my room growing up. I think we should get them the tv.”

He gaped at her for a long moment, all four of the kids waiting for a reply from him. “You win.” he threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “Me rindo. We’ll get you a tv in your room, but you’ll have to wait for your birthday.”

“Deal,” the twins agreed.

“Does this mean we can leave?” Freddie asked.

“Yep,” Beth told him.

“I have to pee!” Mariana yelled, getting up and running to the bathroom on that floor.

“Me too!” Freddie exclaimed, following his sister’s lead but heading to the second floor bathroom.

“I’ll use Freddie’s bathroom!” Lina said as she and Beth jumped up also to use the bathroom.

“We can shake on it after we get back!” Beth yelled as they ran up the stairs.

Nic and Rafael laughed, shaking their heads at their children. He walked over to where she sat on the floor and dropped next to her.

“Those kids are going to rule the world one day,” he joked, resting his head against hers.

She bumped his knee with hers. “And whose fault is that?”

“Ours,” he kissed her cheek, “for making such smart kids.”

Tag list: @hyperionshipping @the-dark-fae-and-her-fos

[thatoneterrariaplayer]

Dangerous Moons - Chapter 1 - Meeting Evelyn Deadeye

Joe's was a place run by a space octopus by the name of Clork, an honest and hard worker. His establishment was known to attract people of all kinds, primarily ruffians and lost souls. Joe's was also the place where I would have the honour of meeting the craziest hired gun on this side of the system, Evelyn Deadeye. The chime of glasses and jovial laughter steeped the bar's air. On a usual night at Joe's, the chorus of the drunk echoed across the walls, sharing their tales of joy and woe.

She sat at a corner table, her back towards the door playing a modified version of an earth game called poker. “Rumour had it she killed three men before adulthood”, the man to my left whispered. “Well, I heard she took an entire guard ship with only a data pad and in handcuffs.” Similar whispers ran throughout the tables, telling faux tales of her greatness. My eyes caught sight of a new denizen entering the bar, a tall scaly lizard man whose eyes were as beady and blood fuelled as any other man on a mission. The room fell to silence at his arrival, of course except for her table. Getting dealt another hand she glanced at her hand before hearing the priming of the laser pistol. "you have 5 seconds to say your peace, girl." The raspy voice behind the barrel hissed. "I’m All in!" "Five." She took a swig of her whiskey. "Four." A visible beat of frustration crossed the lizard's face, his patience being tested. "Three.", his voice shook. You could smell the arrogance she had. "Two." My eyes were glued to the scene, much like the rest of the bar patrons. "One. Times up little gir-"

Suddenly his hand jerked backwards as a clap rippled through the room. He fell to the floor clutching his hand. Standing up she waltzed over to his crumpled figure. Crouching down she asked, "Now sonny what made you think you could just do that?” "You bitch!” He coughs up blood on the floor, now in tears, “You kill the only man I've ever loved and now you take my good hand too! What more do you want?" the lizard cried. "A jobs a job. Its how I eat." "Still, have you no integrity." "Rich coming from the man that just tried to blindside me." She kicked him in the stomach and grabbed his face to direct it towards her. "Now look at me." She reached towards her left hip’s holster. The gun she grabs is the length of her forearm, it has 6 massive cylinders all holding a bullet the size of a tall glass, it dwarfs the standard revolver she normally uses. Menacingly she points it towards the downed man, "Now you see this work of art here? Its from an old friend of mine about two systems over. Adrian or something is what I think his name was. I don't know where or how he found this but he gave me this one here and I've kept it since. Now, if you have ever felt the kick of a mule, this will hurt way worse than that hand you just lost. So, if you value your head staying attached to your shoulders, I'd suggest you pick up what is left of you and scram." "Now, get lost. Before I send you to your lovers side earlier than expected." "You’re crazy you bitch!" snarled the lizard. "That I am and I own it with pride too!" she chimes back. The lizard man hobbled off into the night tail between his legs.

Turning back to her poker game, she reveals her hand as if nothing had happened. A royal flush, as expected with her bold bet. And with that she collected her winnings and proceeded to leave the bar. A sensible person would leave her be but alcohol and curiosity is one hell of a drug, so, idiotically I decided to follow her, a tense gamble of getting shot or learning more about the most insane gun in this system.

Why did i chase her that day? Simply put, I had nothing to lose back then. The old Violet was constantly on the run, running from her problems, running from her demons. I remember that night vividly, as if it were yesterday. The rain fell silently on the night time streets of Parlin, what’s normally a danger filled city is driven to the safety of the shelter this night. This hardly makes it great for tailing people, especially the greatest mercenary to ever grace these stars but amazing for city ambience. The soothing melodies of the puddles splashing echo off the alley walls, the whirring of distant machinery and vehicles, busy bars filled with music and laughter even when assaulted by the weather this city never stops moving. I’m keeping my distance from her, her pace casual yet with purpose. Her leather jacket and boots glisten in the rain, their hazelnut stain matched her skin, boot spurs clicking against the floor. Black hair let loose it sways lightly with the breeze running through the town. Suddenly there’s a rustle to my left, aa a drunkard collapses on the street corner. His groans alert the unaware Evelyn up ahead who casts a glance in our direction. Her pace quickens, I match it. Her’s goes faster yet again. Now, the chase is on. A fight out here would draw too much attention, she knows that. What is her plan? Not like she can just lose me?

She lost me.

The things that happen when you overthink the situation. She could not have gotten far, I can catch up. I race towards the street corner, seeing her coat flick past to the left, I’m gaining ground slowly. Swinging on the street lamp, she took a right, our footsteps synchronised like we have been training together for years, even to the point where we matched our paces. The sloshing water creates a beautiful symphony like an old-school orchestra. She jumps onto some derelict crates as I catch up into the alleyway she weaselled her way into. The crates lead us up to a different sector of the city, the sounds of machines get heavier as the rain is drowned out by their moving parts. I continue my pursuit for at least another ten minutes, my heart beats harder with every passing breath. Suddenly she disappears and her steps come to a halt. Has she finally lost me? Slowing down to a walking pace I begin to catch my breath. The alley I ended up in was dark, dirty and infested with scurrying rodents rushing from box to box. The moonlight beams barely illuminate the left wall. A dirty chain link fence blocks the alley's exit onto the parallel street. A dumpster lies overflowing against it. The rain has come to a stop as it nears midnight. Suddenly I heard a click of a revolver to my left but by the time I get the moment to react, it’s already too late. She presses the cold steel barrel into my temple, the dim lighting highlights her amber eyes fueled with frustration and irritation. “Shit, what have we got here? Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”, she asks with a smug expression. “Same could be said to you? Evelyn Deadeye I presume?”, I respond. “In the flesh.” She presses the barrel harder into my temple. The biting cold steel singes my skin, “And who might you be, stalker of women in storms?” “Violet. Clever you know, dragging me to the relatively quiet part of town.”, I joke. “A real smart ass are you, if you are as smart as your ass is then tell me. Who sent you?”, she asks. “Who sent me? I’m on my own.” “I smell bullshit, is that you reeking of it girl?” “I’m as honest as I can get here. Currently about as coinless as your average beggar, besides hunting you would be a death sentence to the sane.”, I reply, “In all honesty, I have nothing to lose chasing you, I’m on the run from Garry’s guys.” “The pigs in grey you say? That huge gang from the Hub? What did you do to them to get you into so much trouble you end up here on Parlin?” “Stole some of their tech and killed few of their guys.” “You stole shit from Garry?”, she exclaims lowering the gun, it feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted off my head. “Say, you wouldn’t have a place I could stay for a while?” I ask desperately. “Sure lady, but you have to trade me something for it.”, she responds slyly. “Anything that doesn’t involve you blowing my head off. What do you need me to do? Clean your floors, cook for you. File taxes.” I’m surprised she didn’t just shoot me already and by the looks on her face, I almost anticipate what she’s going to say next. “Nothing mundane or idiotic like that. No. I want you to join me for my next few contracts.” A businesswoman as always from the looks of it. Perhaps I may have finally bitten off more than I can actually chew.

Authors Note:

First chapter of a new project I'm finally releasing after having this done for about two months, I have another chapter almost ready for release and another I'm busy writing right now, If you find any glaring oversights in spelling or story vagueness please let me know.

[thatoneterrariaplayers-vault]

Dangerous Moons - Chapter 1 - Meeting Evelyn Deadeye

Joe's was a place run by a space octopus by the name of Clork, an honest and hard worker. His establishment was known to attract people of all kinds, primarily ruffians and lost souls. Joe's was also the place where I would have the honour of meeting the craziest hired gun on this side of the system, Evelyn Deadeye. The chime of glasses and jovial laughter steeped the bar's air. On a usual night at Joe's, the chorus of the drunk echoed across the walls, sharing their tales of joy and woe.

She sat at a corner table, her back towards the door playing a modified version of an earth game called poker. “Rumour had it she killed three men before adulthood”, the man to my left whispered. “Well, I heard she took an entire guard ship with only a data pad and in handcuffs.” Similar whispers ran throughout the tables, telling faux tales of her greatness. My eyes caught sight of a new denizen entering the bar, a tall scaly lizard man whose eyes were as beady and blood fuelled as any other man on a mission. The room fell to silence at his arrival, of course except for her table. Getting dealt another hand she glanced at her hand before hearing the priming of the laser pistol. "you have 5 seconds to say your peace, girl." The raspy voice behind the barrel hissed. "I’m All in!" "Five." She took a swig of her whiskey. "Four." A visible beat of frustration crossed the lizard's face, his patience being tested. "Three.", his voice shook. You could smell the arrogance she had. "Two." My eyes were glued to the scene, much like the rest of the bar patrons. "One. Times up little gir-"

Suddenly his hand jerked backwards as a clap rippled through the room. He fell to the floor clutching his hand. Standing up she waltzed over to his crumpled figure. Crouching down she asked, "Now sonny what made you think you could just do that?” "You bitch!” He coughs up blood on the floor, now in tears, “You kill the only man I've ever loved and now you take my good hand too! What more do you want?" the lizard cried. "A jobs a job. Its how I eat." "Still, have you no integrity." "Rich coming from the man that just tried to blindside me." She kicked him in the stomach and grabbed his face to direct it towards her. "Now look at me." She reached towards her left hip’s holster. The gun she grabs is the length of her forearm, it has 6 massive cylinders all holding a bullet the size of a tall glass, it dwarfs the standard revolver she normally uses. Menacingly she points it towards the downed man, "Now you see this work of art here? Its from an old friend of mine about two systems over. Adrian or something is what I think his name was. I don't know where or how he found this but he gave me this one here and I've kept it since. Now, if you have ever felt the kick of a mule, this will hurt way worse than that hand you just lost. So, if you value your head staying attached to your shoulders, I'd suggest you pick up what is left of you and scram." "Now, get lost. Before I send you to your lovers side earlier than expected." "You’re crazy you bitch!" snarled the lizard. "That I am and I own it with pride too!" she chimes back. The lizard man hobbled off into the night tail between his legs.

Turning back to her poker game, she reveals her hand as if nothing had happened. A royal flush, as expected with her bold bet. And with that she collected her winnings and proceeded to leave the bar. A sensible person would leave her be but alcohol and curiosity is one hell of a drug, so, idiotically I decided to follow her, a tense gamble of getting shot or learning more about the most insane gun in this system.

Why did i chase her that day? Simply put, I had nothing to lose back then. The old Violet was constantly on the run, running from her problems, running from her demons. I remember that night vividly, as if it were yesterday. The rain fell silently on the night time streets of Parlin, what’s normally a danger filled city is driven to the safety of the shelter this night. This hardly makes it great for tailing people, especially the greatest mercenary to ever grace these stars but amazing for city ambience. The soothing melodies of the puddles splashing echo off the alley walls, the whirring of distant machinery and vehicles, busy bars filled with music and laughter even when assaulted by the weather this city never stops moving. I’m keeping my distance from her, her pace casual yet with purpose. Her leather jacket and boots glisten in the rain, their hazelnut stain matched her skin, boot spurs clicking against the floor. Black hair let loose it sways lightly with the breeze running through the town. Suddenly there’s a rustle to my left, aa a drunkard collapses on the street corner. His groans alert the unaware Evelyn up ahead who casts a glance in our direction. Her pace quickens, I match it. Her’s goes faster yet again. Now, the chase is on. A fight out here would draw too much attention, she knows that. What is her plan? Not like she can just lose me?

She lost me.

The things that happen when you overthink the situation. She could not have gotten far, I can catch up. I race towards the street corner, seeing her coat flick past to the left, I’m gaining ground slowly. Swinging on the street lamp, she took a right, our footsteps synchronised like we have been training together for years, even to the point where we matched our paces. The sloshing water creates a beautiful symphony like an old-school orchestra. She jumps onto some derelict crates as I catch up into the alleyway she weaselled her way into. The crates lead us up to a different sector of the city, the sounds of machines get heavier as the rain is drowned out by their moving parts. I continue my pursuit for at least another ten minutes, my heart beats harder with every passing breath. Suddenly she disappears and her steps come to a halt. Has she finally lost me? Slowing down to a walking pace I begin to catch my breath. The alley I ended up in was dark, dirty and infested with scurrying rodents rushing from box to box. The moonlight beams barely illuminate the left wall. A dirty chain link fence blocks the alley's exit onto the parallel street. A dumpster lies overflowing against it. The rain has come to a stop as it nears midnight. Suddenly I heard a click of a revolver to my left but by the time I get the moment to react, it’s already too late. She presses the cold steel barrel into my temple, the dim lighting highlights her amber eyes fueled with frustration and irritation. “Shit, what have we got here? Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”, she asks with a smug expression. “Same could be said to you? Evelyn Deadeye I presume?”, I respond. “In the flesh.” She presses the barrel harder into my temple. The biting cold steel singes my skin, “And who might you be, stalker of women in storms?” “Violet. Clever you know, dragging me to the relatively quiet part of town.”, I joke. “A real smart ass are you, if you are as smart as your ass is then tell me. Who sent you?”, she asks. “Who sent me? I’m on my own.” “I smell bullshit, is that you reeking of it girl?” “I’m as honest as I can get here. Currently about as coinless as your average beggar, besides hunting you would be a death sentence to the sane.”, I reply, “In all honesty, I have nothing to lose chasing you, I’m on the run from Garry’s guys.” “The pigs in grey you say? That huge gang from the Hub? What did you do to them to get you into so much trouble you end up here on Parlin?” “Stole some of their tech and killed few of their guys.” “You stole shit from Garry?”, she exclaims lowering the gun, it feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted off my head. “Say, you wouldn’t have a place I could stay for a while?” I ask desperately. “Sure lady, but you have to trade me something for it.”, she responds slyly. “Anything that doesn’t involve you blowing my head off. What do you need me to do? Clean your floors, cook for you. File taxes.” I’m surprised she didn’t just shoot me already and by the looks on her face, I almost anticipate what she’s going to say next. “Nothing mundane or idiotic like that. No. I want you to join me for my next few contracts.” A businesswoman as always from the looks of it. Perhaps I may have finally bitten off more than I can actually chew.

Authors Note:

First chapter of a new project I'm finally releasing after having this done for about two months, I have another chapter almost ready for release and another I'm busy writing right now, If you find any glaring oversights in spelling or story vagueness please let me know.

[adaptacy]

Southern Nights

Nothin' here but fluff, a bit (a lot) of Sonny x Leland, and good vibes. maybe a tiny drop of bitter-sweetness and angst between the lines but mostly just a cute fluff quick write to bandage my heart cause I love these idiots so much. &lt;3

| Southern Nights - Glen Campbell | ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

─── ☆。*。☆。･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* . ☆。*。☆. ───

𝕋he air was filled with some sense of electricity to join the smell of campfire smoke, a light aroma of beer, and gentle laughter. A group of close friends sat gathered around an orange fire, two on a log, two in their own fold-up chairs, and one knelt by the flames, poking at it with a metal rod.

"I can't believe he kept it up for two whole years," a girl laughed, brushing her brown hair over her shoulder.

"Right? You would've thought his voice got tired after the first few months," a boy responded, chuckling along with her as he took a sip from his can of beer. Sure, they weren't quite old enough to be drinking, but there wasn't anyone else here to get them in trouble, and they certainly wouldn't tattle on each other.

"I'm gonna miss him," another girl spoke up, popping a marshmallow in her mouth. She chewed, and then shrugged, swallowing. "Hated history, but he was a good teacher. Made it way more interesting," she continued, and a few of the other kids nodded along with her.

"I bet we'll have all kinds of cool teachers in college, though," another girl added, biting the inside of her lip as she thought.

"Just sucks we won't have each other," the brown-haired boy by the fire commented, leaning back and sitting on the ground next to the only other male in the circle, who sat in his plastic and fabric camping chair.

"We'll still stay in contact," the first girl reassured, setting her can of beer in the dirt next to the log. "At least you and Connie are going to the same college." Ana, the girl speaking, motioned between the boy on the ground and an orange-haired girl on the log next to her.

"Yeah, but UT is a huge school. We may not even run into each other. And what about you guys? Have you guys been accepted into any yet?" Connie asked, looking around the group.

"I got into USC," the boy in the chair replied, and Leland glanced up at him, though he lacked a smile. After a moment of thought, he lowered his head again, taking a long sip of his beer.

"I'm waiting on something back from RIC, and the University of North Dakota," Ana replied, and Julie chuckled.

"You're gonna be freezing all the time if you go to UND," Julie reminded, shaking her head. "I couldn't imagine. I got accepted into UF, so I won't be too far, at least."

"You guys think you're gonna come back to Texas after college?" Leland asked, scooting a little closer to Sonny, the boy in the chair next to him.

"Definitely," Julie answered. Sonny and Ana exchanged a glance, and Ana spoke first.

"I don't know, actually. Maria wants to live somewhere more northern. She likes the cold. I don't really wanna be too far from her," she shrugged, and the group gave a few nods, understanding how close Ana and her sister were. Wherever Maria went, Ana was sure to follow. They'd been that way for as long as Ana could remember.

Leland gently nudged Sonny's ankle, and he looked down at him, a small smile on his face. "I'll probably come back to visit. My entire family is here, anyways." He looked back up to the rest of the group, pausing for a moment as he thought. "We should make plans to all visit for the holidays though. That way we don't risk losing contact," he suggested. Leland immediately nodded.

"I'm sure we can make that work. Probably sometime during the summers too, right?" Ana asked, and the two other girls nodded at her.

Connie popped another marshmallow in her mouth, looking around the serene campsite. "You think there's gonna be a lot of parties in college?"

Leland chuckled. "I'd hope so."

"Probably, that's what everyone says it's like. Parties and alcohol and stuff. I don't know how fun they'd really be, though. I've heard some bad stories about them," Ana murmured, reaching a hand out towards Connie and curling her fingers in.

Connie handed the girl a marshmallow, and Ana slid it onto a short metal point before she hovered the tool over the flames, watching as the treat bubbled and grew an appetizing golden crust. "I think we should all make a pact to try at least three parties. Then we can all share our stories and stuff when we hang out again," she proposed.

"I'm going to a lot more than three parties," Leland laughed, and Sonny nudged him, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Let me guess, you'll be the keg-stand master?" Sonny teased, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, obviously. Gotta impress the chicks," Leland responded, laughing still.

"You can barely handle a can of beer, there's no way," Julie cut in, shaking her head at his cockiness.

"Well, next time you visit, I guess I'll just have to prove it. Just give me some time to warm up my skills," he replied, holding up and arm and flexing his muscles. "Gonna be football n' beer. Ain't that what college is all about?"

"And getting a degree, Mr. Scholarship," Connie commented, earning a shrug from Leland as he lowered his arm. "Seriously, you know you can lose those if you don't commit to them, right?"

"What? No you can't. That wouldn't even make any sense. I already proved myself," Leland scoffed.

"They're paying thousands of dollars for you. I think that definitely makes sense. It's like being kicked out of someone's place for not cleaning up after yourself," Ana added, retracting her marshmallow and tapping it to test it's temperature.

"If you're paying rent, you should be able to do whatever you want," Leland murmured.

"Yeah, but you're not paying rent, dummy. That scholarship is. So make it count," Sonny hummed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky. "I can't wait to live on my own."

"Me too," the rest of the group chimed in simultaneously, giggling at their harmony. Julie yawned, stretching her arms up.

"I'm exhausted. Isn't it about time for bed?" She asked, and the two other girls nodded.

"Speak for yourselves. I've got plenty of energy." Leland shook his head, finishing off his beer as he tossed his head back to get the last drop.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Babes, y'all with me?" Julie asked, standing up out of her chair, and Connie rose as well. Ana pulled her marshmallow off of the stick and popped it into her mouth, nodding and standing as well.

"Since you're so energetic, you can put the fire out," Ana teased.

"Oh, how generous," Leland groaned, pulling himself to his feet.

"Sonny? You comin'?" Connie asked, tilting her head at him.

"Nah, I'm good for a little while longer. Might as well stay out here and keep Leland company. Don't want him getting scared," Sonny yawned, shrugging.

"Or even worse, lonely," Julie teased, winking at Sonny as the girls turned around and retreated back to their tents. Sonny blinked, pretending that he didn't catch on to the wink, and he leaned forward onto his knees, watching as Leland analyzed the fire.

Once they were alone, Leland stood, looking over at a long lake down the hill. They'd picked a fantastic spot to set up camp, and this was their final night of their six-day camping trip. It had been just as fun as the past six years that he'd known the group, filled with laughter and pranks and stupid teenager decisions.

But the end of the camping trip was the end of those six years, too. They all knew it. They were moving on, going to college, going to be adults in an adult world doing adult things. They weren't dumb kids just doing dumb kid things anymore. They'd have responsibilities, and families, and bills.

"Wanna go sit on the dock?" Sonny asked, and Leland looked back at him.

"Sure," he replied. Sonny stood, glancing over at the tent that the girls were in before heading down the small hill with Leland. They walked out on a thin but long wooden dock over the lake, and Sonny stepped out of his shoes as he took a seat, his feet dipping into the cool water beneath.

Leland did the same, sitting next to Sonny. After two minutes of nothing but the sound of crickets and gentle water movements, Leland scooted closer to Sonny, their fingers silently intertwining. The brunette leaned his head on Sonny's shoulder, and he received a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Leland didn't need to say anything. Neither of them did. They just watched the water, watched the reflections of fireflies, watched the breeze ruffle the grass on the river bank.

After a few more minutes, Leland finally decided he wanted to say something. "You'll visit?"

"I will," Sonny reassured, his chin resting against the head on his shoulder.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do," Leland whispered.

Sonny let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, gently rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to comfort him. "Whatever happened to impressing the chicks?" Sonny chuckled softly, and Leland cracked a smile.

"How could I forget," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

There was silence for a little while longer, and Sonny planted a kiss on Leland's head. The action earned a small frown from Leland, and he suddenly turned, wrapping his arms around Sonny and leaning into his chest. Sonny hugged him back, closing his eyes. He could feel how tense Leland's muscles were, and Sonny quietly shushed him, which only caused him to let out a single audible whine, though his muscles did relax.

Sonny didn't say anything for a while, didn't call Leland out on the way his shoulders flinched every few seconds, or the small gasps he took in as he tried to silence his crying.

After a bit, Sonny gently pulled Leland away from his chest, one hand on his shoulder and the other cupping the right side of his jaw. Leland's eyes were a bit red, and Sonny merely watched him.

With a sniffle, Leland whispered out a weak "I love you, Williams."

Sonny smiled, bringing his thumb up and wiping the other boy's cheek free of a loose wandering tear. "I love you too, Mckinney," he said back, pulling the brunette into a tight hug once more.

[detective-giggles]

10 Random Lines

tagged by my beloved @sarahcakes613

rules: pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. then tag ten people.

1. Contempt (Barisi):  Benson shifted, studying Carisi carefully as he pouted, wondering what had gotten into him. Mouthing off to a judge was out of character for the former detective. If she didn’t know better, she thought he sounded a little like-

2. Marry Me (Tarlos): Carlos sniffs again and his mouth waters. “Is my mother here?” he hisses. “No? Should she be?” TK hurries into the kitchen and stirs something on the stove while Carlos watches curiously from the middle of the room.

3. Baby Blues (Barisi):  “Do you like spaghetti?” He wondered. Noah just stared, blinking his big eyes. Sonny sighed and grabbed his phone, “Hey Siri, can babies eat spaghetti?”

4. There’s no memory for remedy (Tarlos):  TK laughs from somewhere above him. “Oh, baby. If you’re already begging, you’re in for a long night.”

5. Proposal Prep (Tarlos): “They’re not breaking up.” Paul piped up. “Thank you!” “They’re getting married!” He added slowly.

6. how did we get here (Tarlos): “Thank you for coming, Gentlemen. We’re here today to discuss the fight your kids started at lunch today.” “Fight? With all due respect, Ma’am, that doesn’t sound like our kids at all!” Carlos says. “That sounds exactly like my kid,” TK admits. “What happened?”

7. Back to Square One (Tarlos):  Carlos turns and, against his better judgment, sends his fist flying into the door jamb. He regrets it almost immediately; pain explodes in his hand and radiates into his wrist and arm, but it doesn’t compare to the pain in his heart.

8. the beginning of something great (Tarlos):  “He made you breakfast this morning; he’s afraid you’ll pass out at the altar,” Nancy says. TK sits up a little more and leans against the headboard. Nancy and Mateo start unpacking bags, and TK realizes Carlos has sent them over with enough food for the entire wedding party.

9. Sandwich Dismissed (pairingless crackfic): Sonny shrugged, “but it was my fault your last sandwich didn’t work out. Luckily, I decided it looked really good while I was picking it up off the floor. My debt to you is now repaid.” “My hero.” Rafael grinned. The pair stood in silence for a minute. “I guess it would be pretty rude if I didn’t ask you to join me, wouldn’t it?”

10. i have you again (i’m never letting you go) (Tarlos):  Carlos laughs again, his fingertips skating over TK’s exposed skin. “No, I mean, I wanna wait until you’re ready to go again.” “Oh, well, no pressure there.” “Take your time,” Carlos says. “I’m in no rush.”

Tagging: @chicgeekgirl89 @chaotictarlos @paperstorm @sanjuwrites @taralaurel @morganaspendragonss @noxsoulmate @mooshkat @thebumblecee @cowlos-reyes

[pcril]

* ◟ : 〔 andrew koji , cis man + he/him 〕 SEIKO NISHIKIDO , some say you’re a THIRTY-SIX YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both RESILIENT and SPITEFUL, one can’t help but think of FERAL by LEFT TO SUFFER when you walk by. are you still a SOLDIER / UNDERGROUND FIGHTER at DEAD HAND / RALPH’S BOXING GYM, even with your reputation as the THE SALVAGED? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and REFUSAL TO LET GO OF VIOLENCE EVEN IF IT’S CONSUMED SO MUCH OF YOU, THE ONLY REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR IS A RAW WOUND, FOREVER PINNED IN PLACE LIKE AN INSECT TO STUDY, although we can’t help but think of YOON JIWOO (MY NAME), CHOI YOUNGWOON (VINCENZO), SONNIE (LOVE, DEATH, ROBOTS whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

ENTER THE SALVAGED .

Day and night you're faced with the same bullshit. Do what you're told. Stay away from conversation where you can. Live with yourself instead of against it. Rinse and repeat. There's a constant ache in your shoulder from all the downpour. Never a moment's respite given how it patters on day to day, month to month. How much longer can you endure this life? You ask yourself this upon sunrise and once again at sunset. The answer's always the same. Just a little bit more, then we'll see.

PUBLICLY KNOWN FACTS:

Name: Seiko Nishikido

Appearance: There's an impressive collection of five entire outfits in his closet. Clothes aren't of the highest priority to him. Neither is his hair or skin. Hardly makes a difference when the latter's frequently mottled with plum blue or royal purple. He's the quiet sort. Doesn't enjoy talking just for the sake of it. Would much rather be in his own company, despite him not being able to stand even that most of the time.

Expectations were to be set high and flawlessly achieved even before Seiko's time, as was the Nishikido way. Born with a gilded spoon in his mouth, the very same was also to be used as admonishment whenever needed. Sometimes even prematurely to nip rogue habits and thoughts in the bud – if only to ensure a concrete mold to his path in life. Always a quiet soul, the rigidness of his upbringing was seen as unwavering obedience. When in reality, that was far from the truth.

The love offered by both parents may have not been intended as conditional, but it certainly was interpreted as such. Unlike his coveted sister, the golden star of their family, Seiko never felt immersed at home. Always a few steps back, always on the cusp of shadows, he still met the world with scintillate, starry eyes and a laugh that shook the evening sky itself. And while the beginnings of his rebellion wasn’t exactly welcomed, he made sure to wield the simmering ferocity with a tight grip – be it at home, school, or otherwise. Something that gleaned a droplet of pride from both dearest mother and father.

How ironic it would be to have the very same notion serve as the cornerstone to future tension.

The tragedy that befell his father was more devastating than anyone could have predicted. It was too soon, too abrupt, too painful for all friends and family to withstand. Without preexisting, solid connections to those still around, Seiko was simply unable to process such a thing. So he vanished shortly after, gone at the age of sixteen.

Where his path twisted was left to the whims of rash choices and quick cash. Not once did he stop in a city for more than a few months. There was already a comfort in discomfort, of a fast lifestyle, of living on the outskirts of what the city life illuminated to the unassuming eye. Years passed and he was hardly a stranger to busted knuckles and deep bruises. Violence had been such an addictive vice to cope and stay alive. Hidden spots to trade spilt blood for cold cash, he keeps at it because it's all he knows to do.

With fame came the slacken ease of his own hubris. Unbeatable was he as reflexes and skill were honed razor sharp and lightening fast. Seiko hadn’t thought much when approached by a hotshot prospect all those years ago. Some tall, thin, weaselly build of a man that always got his way. If not, well — he wagered that’s what the spread of hired muscle was for ( sad hairlines, ill-fitted tees, and all ).

“My guy, I like your style, but why don’t you go down in the second and make three times your worth?”

My worth? He wanted to scoff, let a rare smile whet that steely gaze. But he doesn’t. Not a single muscle moved aside what’s needed to give a timely response. “No thanks. Not worth my time.” It’s the wrong thing to say to an influential figure, but moneybags wasn’t the only one haughty with pride. Of course, there were more words to be said, he was certain of it, but it wasn’t given the chance to take air. There was a match to be done and he intended on getting his share fair and square.

Turns out, consequences can’t always be avoided entirely. Some borrowed time can certainly go a long way, but to think oneself impervious to the finality is just downright foolish and stupid.

And that’s what he’d been.

Fucking stupid.

None of the details really stuck in the end. Someone, or a few someones, got the best of him somewhere at some time, relocated him from joint to joint, kept him passive by some substantial damage. The works of some revenge plot wanted by someone with too much time on their hands, i.e. the aforementioned fat cat with deeper pockets and even deeper connections.

All he knew was that his audacity of defiance wasn’t something taken lightly. That much he could understood. To disrespect someone’s status apparently warranted punishment fourfold. Not to mention how he broke his opponent’s elbow like a stick and made their most prized cash cow useless for ‘far too long’.

Then nothing. Not a single blip stored in the banks of his bruised, sore memory.

The state he found himself upon waking was fucking awful. Whatever pain he’d known prior couldn’t even begin to compare — hopefully never will ever again. And if that wasn’t enough cream to the spoiled crop, things kept getting progressively worse. The more rooted he was in reality, the more aware he became of three specific things.

The first, and arguably most important, being how dead he was supposed to be. How he’d actually been dead for precisely six minutes and fourteen seconds. All of that pumping to the chest might have added to the slew of injury, but hey — it kickstarted his poor heart with a vengeance. So much so that the medic almost thought he’d come to swinging. And perhaps he might have if that were possible.

Aside from being beaten to a bloody pulp, he also lost some weight. Which was to say how he’d be walking the world a limb lighter. The mangled mess that was once an arm couldn’t be saved. Remember that cash cow? Remember how cleanly that joint had snapped by his own doing?

Maybe it’s best that he lacks the details after all.

There’s hardly a stump past the junction of his left shoulder, but it still doesn’t click. Not completely. Probably won’t when another wrench is thrown by way of a single subject immediately after that discovery. A delicately guised ultimatum that would bind him to a name, a popular organization around these parts, for having saved his mottled skin at the last minute. That alone awoken the throttle to run again — run as fucking far as he possibly could.

IVs were torn out in a flurry despite the startled warning given by the attending medic. And, shit, that fucker was right. There he went like a off centered pendulum. No one tells you how unbalanced one less arm can be, but he still fought to make headway. Didn’t stop until the nurse was yelling right at him while simultaneously preventing another crash landing.

Right, about that third thing. It doesn’t make itself known until right then. There’d been enough clarity for him to understand what’s said with the aid of sight, but it’s grossly muffled. Temporal bone fracture, he’d be told later on — once this whole thing blows over.

In the end, his own self-proclaimed end that is, he relents to the offer. They had given him the chance to live again after all, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Ever. Or so he tells himself to keep that thistle of self-hatred deeply rooted at the core of his psyche, because he’d be so entirely lost without it.

[bessmrvin]

Headcanon - Bess & Love: A Breakdown

Bess is a known boy-crazy girl. She loves love. She loves romance and she loves boys. Over the years, Bess has had a lot of crushes and a lot of exes. Here are a few.

some of her crushes:

Joe Hardy Joe is her closest guy friend. She's known the Hardy boys for forever. That means at some point she's. . . thought things. Imagined if they dated. She thinks they'd get along best as couple out of the two brothers. Theyre both fun-loving, they get one another's jokes, and they both love eating. However, she values their friendship too much to make a move and more often than not she does see him as a friend more so than a potential boyfriend.

Frank Hardy Yes, if she's wondered about Joe, she's wondered about Frank. Again, she's known him almost her entire life. Frank is reliable. Sturdy, smart, logical. He makes her feel safe and heard. It's attractive to have that from someone (especially a boy). Bess knows of his crush on Nancy though. . . she didnt want to be a second-choice.

Sonny Joon (from the Shattered Medallion) Sonny Joon is probably Bess' biggest crush yet. He was just so... so... Mysterious! And eccentric! And smart! And cute! Especially cute. She lost all her charm around him and was a bit awkward to be honest - however he was always kind to her. Which honestly made her feel even more stupid and flustered and head-over-heels for him. She went a bit nuts with this crush - making edits of him on her phone even. To this day, Bess still has a crush on Sonny!

Jacques Brunais (from the Treasure in the Royal Tower) A French skier, oh la la. She asked for a picture of him ASAP when Nancy told her of this handsome man in the middle of a snowy castle landscape. He was so handsome, she nearly melted. But he has a fiance, boo. Oh well, it was a fun fluttering of butterflies.

Brady Armstrong (from The Final Scene) An actor on some of her favorite trashy teen movies Lie Like a Rug and Doctor Salsa. He has such a boyish look to him Bess couldn't help but imagine every cliche high school romance trope with him as the star. Nancy meeting him made her very jealous! She begged her to give him her number - who knows what could've happened!

Rick Arlen (from Stay Tuned For Danger) A soap opera star who is just a DILF. Even if he wasn't a dad. . . or even that old. She's watched all of his soap operas and can't believe he told Nancy to stay beautiful, oh my gosh!

Jeff Akers (from the Ghost Dogs of Moon Canyon) This was a purely long-distance crush based on what Nancy told her via phone calls. Oh, how she made Jeff to be so dreamy. He was a park ranger - obviously he was cute. She eventually lost interest in him within a few hours especially when Nancy spoke about all the busy-work he gave her. Ugh. Buzzkill.

some of her ex-boyfriends:

Matt Deon (from the Haunted Carousel) Matt was the cute boy at the movie theatre she had a huge crush on. She had slipped him her number when she went to get her popcorn bucket refilled after watching a movie. He waited so long to call her (i.e. the next day). She had approached him solely on his looks (and that he always gave her extra popcorn). Their shared interests were listening to music and shopping. He was actually amazing at coming on shopping trips and she had a great time with him a lot. They broke up when he moved away from River Heights (despite trying to be long-distance for a month or so).

Dave Gregory (from Secret of Shadow Ranch) Bess did not have a steady back home, Dave Gregory. Dave and her were a summer fling while she stayed at her aunt and uncle's ranch. He was a bit shy and Bess was. . . not. Their relationship was fun and flirty. He taught her to ride a horse. They went on fun dates around the town. . . they went to a carnival together. But he kind of ignored her (at least it felt like it) and she quickly ended the relationship that night.

Dave Evans Yes, Bess dated another Dave back-to-back. Dave Evans was a 'skater boi' and a bit of a tech nerd. Visually, they didnt vibe. Him grungy and her bubblegum pink. But they got each other so very well. He loved her softness and spice and energy. She loved his smile, his cleverness, and his Labrador gamer ways. They dated for a year and half before they mutually broke up.

Kevin Kim (from the Last Train to Moon Canyon) Kevin is a clumsy boy who worked at the local ice cream shop Scoop. He had moved to town that fall and Bess claimed it was love at first sight. She began flirting with him immediately (despite George's warnings). They lasted one month, separating after she caught him on a date with another girl. . . at the ice cream shop too!

Charlie Marino (from The Haunting of Castle Malloy) Charlie is a local boy from River Heights; she's known him most of her life from kindergarten to college. They get together at a pool party hosted by the Dunhills. Their relationship lasted the summer - a summer of pool dates, sunscreen-flavored kisses, and cuddling in the back of a pick-up truck. When he went back to college, he broke up with her.

Logan Mitchell (from Shadow at the Water's Edge): Savannah Woodham's assistant. Bess' initial interaction with Logan was to get him to help Nancy, flirting with him to get Nancy access to Savannah. It was a bit mean but fun. He bought her a new outfit even! And when they got talking. . . they really had a lot in common. They both liked researching things so they could talk about random things in circles and they both liked exploring different foods and he was really sweet. They dated long-distance for about a year. He began to get more invested with work and Bess saw their phonecalls and texts become secondary to his work. She broke up with him. Nancy later told her that he was also fired from his job a few months later.